These lazy days of Summer,
They keep calling me,
To those reckless teenage years
I spent in Italy.

Bang the drum, fair maiden,
Bang the drum.
Restless warriors are out there,
And they're on the run.

We patrolled the alley ways,
Down in Venice town,
In the early morning hours,
We never made a sound.

Five thousand miles were we,
Away from home,
Drinking wine in front of the art museum,
All alone.

Bang the drum, fair maiden,
Bang the drum.
Restless warriors are out there,
And they're on the run.

Desert warriors are in the sand
At the crack of dawn,
Combat gear at the ready,
Cold breakfast and they're gone.

Look at me, young soldier,
As my twilight comes,
My heroes are thirty years younger,
And they're carrying guns.

Bang the drum, fair maiden,
Bang the drum.
Old warriors are back home waiting,
In the setting sun.

We'll watch as you come home to us,
When you're done,
And then will come your time, young soldier...
To bang the drum.