They're Either Too Young or Too Old

You marched away and left this town
As empty as can be
I can't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me

For there is no secret lover
That the draft board didn't discover
They're either too young or too old
They're either too grey or too grassy green

The pickings are poor and the crop is lean
What's good is in the army
What's left will never harm me
I'm either their first breath of spring

Or else, I'm their last little fling
I must confess to one romance
I'm sure you will allow
He tries to serenade me
But his voice is changing now

I'm finding it easy to stay good as gold
They're either too young or too old

The battle is on, but the fortress will hold
They're either too young or too old

I'll never, never fail ya when you are in Australia
Or out in the Aleutians, or off among the Rooshians
And flying over Egypt, your heart will never by gypped
And when you get to India, I'll still be what I've been to ya
I've looked the field over, and lo and behold
They're either too young or too old