In the southern part of Texas

In the town of San Antone

There's a fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown

You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a-one

But sometimes between the setting and the rising of the sun

You can hear a ghostly bugle

As the men go marching by

You can hear them as they answer

To that roll call in the sky.



Colonel Travis, Davy Crockett, and a hundred eighty more

Captain Dickinson, Jim Bowie

Present and accounted for.



Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis

"Get some volunteers and go

Fortify the Alamo."

Well the men came from Texas

And from old Tennessee

And they joined up with Travis

Just to fight for the right to be free.



Indian scouts with squirrel guns

Men with muzzle-loaders

Stood together, heel and toe

To defend the Alamo.



"You may ne'er see your loved ones,"

Travis told them that day

"Those who want to can leave now

Those who fight to the death let 'em stay."



In the sand he drew a line

With his army sabre

Out of a hundred eighty five

Not a soldier crossed the line

With his banners a-dancin'

In the dawn's golden light

Santa Anna came prancing

On a horse that was black as the night.



Sent an officer to tell

Travis to surrender

Travis answered with a shell

And a rousing rebel yell

Santa Anna turned scarlet

"Play deguello!" he roared

"I will show them no quarter

Every one will be put to the sword!"



One hundred and eighty five

Holding back five thousand

Five days, six days, eight days, ten

Travis held and held again

Then he sent for replacements

For his wounded and lame

But the troops that were coming

Never came, never came, never came...



Twice he charged and blew recall

On the fatal third time

Santa Anna breached the wall

And he killed 'em, one and all

Now the bugles are silent

And there's rust on each sword

And the small band of soldiers...



Lie asleep in the arms of the Lord...



In the southern part of Texas

Near the town of San Antone

Like a statue on his pinto rides a cowboy all alone

And he sees the cattle grazing where a century before

Santa Anna's guns were blazing and the cannons used to roar

And his eyes turn sorta misty

And his heart begins to glow

And he takes his hat off slowly...



To the men of Alamo.



To the thirteen days of glory

At the seige of Alamo...