In the southern part of Texas
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In the town of San Antone
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There's a fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown
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You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a-one
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But sometimes between the setting and the rising of the sun
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You can hear a ghostly bugle
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As the men go marching by
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You can hear them as they answer
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To that roll call in the sky.
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Colonel Travis, Davy Crockett, and a hundred eighty more
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Captain Dickinson, Jim Bowie
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Present and accounted for.
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Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis
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"Get some volunteers and go
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Fortify the Alamo."
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Well the men came from Texas
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And from old Tennessee
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And they joined up with Travis
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Just to fight for the right to be free.
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Indian scouts with squirrel guns
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Men with muzzle-loaders
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Stood together, heel and toe
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To defend the Alamo.
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"You may ne'er see your loved ones,"
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Travis told them that day
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"Those who want to can leave now
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Those who fight to the death let 'em stay."
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In the sand he drew a line
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With his army sabre
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Out of a hundred eighty five
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Not a soldier crossed the line
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With his banners a-dancin'
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In the dawn's golden light
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Santa Anna came prancing
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On a horse that was black as the night.
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Sent an officer to tell
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Travis to surrender
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Travis answered with a shell
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And a rousing rebel yell
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Santa Anna turned scarlet
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"Play deguello!" he roared
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"I will show them no quarter
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Every one will be put to the sword!"
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One hundred and eighty five
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Holding back five thousand
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Five days, six days, eight days, ten
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Travis held and held again
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Then he sent for replacements
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For his wounded and lame
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But the troops that were coming
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Never came, never came, never came...
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Twice he charged and blew recall
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On the fatal third time
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Santa Anna breached the wall
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And he killed 'em, one and all
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Now the bugles are silent
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And there's rust on each sword
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And the small band of soldiers...
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Lie asleep in the arms of the Lord...
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In the southern part of Texas
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Near the town of San Antone
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Like a statue on his pinto rides a cowboy all alone
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And he sees the cattle grazing where a century before
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Santa Anna's guns were blazing and the cannons used to roar
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And his eyes turn sorta misty
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And his heart begins to glow
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And he takes his hat off slowly...
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To the men of Alamo.
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To the thirteen days of glory
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At the siege of Alamo...
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-----------------
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Ballad Of The Alamo
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| Marty Robbins |
