Buried in a field of crosses, the ghost of an American son
|
Seventeen at Vicksburg when he heard the thunder of the guns
|
And his friends were all there with him when they laid him beneath the frost
|
The preacher said ..The brotherhood of battle is always greater then the cause
|
|
Nightmare of blastin' light, ashes in the wind
|
I couldn't find him to say goodbye; he was my only friend
|
All the kinfolk met the train that carried Luther Lane
|
I had a few in his name; I got good and drunk for Luther Lane
|
|
Six white horses pulled the carriage the band played nearer my God to thee
|
And all the children were starin', Luther, the missing part of me
|
I got an all of a sudden taste for whiskey as I was cold and it was gettin' late
|
I know I shouldn't have done it but I nicked a buck off the collection plate
|
|
Gendarme he grabbed my arm and dragged me off to jail
|
I'm sittin here one-legged Luther
|
I know you woulda posted bail
|
|
All the kinfolk met the train that carried Luther Lane
|
I had a few in his name; I got good and drunk for Luther Lane
|
|
You sure did make it tough for Job and me, my Lord
|
Two bodies fell as one casualty of war
|
I shoulda gone down under the ground with all the corps
|
When you've survived enough it's not enough for some Lord I know
|
|
-----------------
|
Luther Lane
|
Cherry Poppin' Daddies |