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 than the cause Nightmare of blastin' light ashes in the wind I couldn't find him to say good-bye 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, at the missin' part of me I got an all a sudden taste for whiskey as I was cold and it was gettin' late I know I shouldn't a 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 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 All the kinfolk met the train that carried Luther Lane I had a few in his name I got good and drunk for old Luther Lane For old Luther Lane For old Luther Lane For old Luther Lane
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