I WAS THERE IN

THE WINTER OF

SIXTY-FOUR

WHEN WE CAMPED

IN THE ICE

AT NASHVILLE'S DOOR

THREE HUNDRED MILES

OUR TRAIL HAD LED

WE BARELY HAD TIME

TO BURY OUR DEAD

WHEN THE YANKEES

CHARGED

AND THE COLORS

FELL

OVERTON HILL

WAS A LIVIN' HELL

WHEN WE CALLED RETREAT

IT WAS ALMOST DARK

I DIED WITH A

GRAPESHOT

IN MY HEART

SAY A PRAYER FOR PEACE

FOR EVERY FALLEN SON

SET MY SPIRIT FREE

LET ME LAY DOWN MY GUN

SWEET MOTHER MARY

I'M SO TIRED

BUT I CAN'T COME HOME

'TIL THE LAST SHOT'S

FIRED

IN JUNE OF NINETEEN

FORTY-FOUR

I WADED IN THE BLOOD

OF OMAHA'S SHORES

TWENTY-ONE AND SCARED

TO DEATH

MY HEART POUNDIN'

IN MY CHEST

I ALMOST MADE

THE FIRST SEAWALL

WHEN MY FRIENDS TURNED

AND SAW ME FALL

I STILL SMELL

THE SMOKE

I CAN TASTE THE MUD

AS I LAY THERE DYIN'

FROM A LOSS OF BLOOD

SAY A PRAYER FOR PEACE

FOR EVERY FALLEN SON

SET MY SPIRIT FREE

LET ME LAY DOWN MY GUN

SWEET MOTHER MARY

I'M SO TIRED

BUT I CAN'T COME HOME

'TIL THE LAST SHOT'S

FIRED

I'M IN THE FIELDS

OF VIETNAM

THE MOUNTAINS OF

AFGHANISTAN

AND I'M STILL HOPIN'

WAITIN' PRAYIN'

I DID NOT DIE IN VAIN

SAY A PRAYER FOR PEACE

FOR EVERY FALLEN SON

SET OUR SPIRITS FREE

LET US LAY DOWN

OUR GUNS

SWEET MOTHER MARY

WE'RE SO TIRED

BUT WE CAN'T COME HOME

'TIL THE LAST SHOT'S

FIRED

'TIL THE LAST SHOT'S

FIRED

12 BAR

VOCAL

BREAK

SWEET MOTHER MARY

WE'RE SO TIRED

BUT WE CAN'T COME HOME