Genre: folk
Melody Key: George F. Root
In the pri-son cell I sit
Think-ing Mo-ther dear of you
And our bright and hap-py home
So far a-way
And the tears they fill my eyes
`Spite of all that I can do
Though I try to cheer my
Com-rades and be gay
Tramp! tramp! tramp!
The boys are march-ing
Cheer up com-rades, they will come
And be-neath the star-ry flag
We will breathe the air a-gain
Of the free land
In our own be-lov-ed home
In the battle-front we stood
When their fiercest charge they made
And they swept us off
A hundred men or more.
But before we'd reached their lines
They were beaten back dismayed
And we heard the cry of
"Vict'ry!" o'er and o'er.
...
Now within the prison cell
We are waiting for the day
That will come to open
Wide the iron door.
And the hollow eye grows bright
And the poor heart almost gay
When we think of seeing home
And friends once more.
...
