Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!

(George Root)



In my prison cell I sit,

Thinking Mother dear of you,

And our bright and happy home so far away,

And the tears they fill my eyes

Spite of all that I can do

Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.



cho: Tramp! tramp! tramp! The boys are marching

Cheer up comrades, they will come.

And beneath the starry flag

We shall breathe the air again

Of the free land in our own beloved 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 reached their lines

They were beaten back, dismayed,

And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er.



So within the prison cell

We are waiting for the day

That shall come to open wide the iron door;

And the hollow eye grows bright

And the poor heart almost gay

As we think of seing home and friends once more.



@army @war @America @Civil @prisoner

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