Phil Ochs, 40 Years

Singer-songwriter Phil Ochs died 40 years ago today. He hanged himself.

I knew that the creator of songs like Draft Dodger Rag and I Ain't Marching Anymore had killed himself. I didn't know that he had been diagnosed as bipolar or that his later years were a time of self-medicating and paranoia... Or that he had reason to be paranoid, since the FBI had a 500-page file on him, and his friend, Chilean activist and singer Victor Jara was publicly murdered in the post-Allende years.

Some people wonder why there don't seem to be any protest songs in our current era. There are, of course, but they don't have the reach of the songs from the 1960s, for a variety of reasons. While others are cloaked as pop songs, not visible as such to people who aren't part of the audience (think Beyoncé's song Formation).

Anyway. Phil Ochs was already dead by the time I learned of him in the late 1970s. Here are the words to I Ain't Marching Anymore.

Oh, I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain't marching anymore

For I've killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying, I saw many more dying
But I ain't marching anymore

It's always the old to lead us to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes, I even killed my brothers
And so many others
But I ain't marching anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh, I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain't marching anymore

It's always the old to lead us to the war
It's always the young to fall
Now look at all we've won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning I knew that I was learning
That I ain't marching anymore

Now the labor leader's screamin'
When they close the missile plants
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore
Call it, Peace, or call it, Treason
Call it, Love, or call it, Reason
But I ain't marching anymore
No, I ain't marching anymore