| Now the fog and smoke is lifting from the fallen row on row
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| In 1861 they prayed for god to keep their souls
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| Jimmy left home in April, that was one year to the day
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| Writes his mother back home in Brighton, but he ain’t got much to say
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| He’s forgotten what his town looks like, the smell of death is all around
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| He dreams of the blue atlantic to once again be homeward bound
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| Homeward bound
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| Though the road was long and winding many snares lay in their path
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| But their struggle they saw as righteous they fought with might and struck with
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| wrath
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| Now the battle hymns are playing, report of shots not far away
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| No prayer, no promise, no hand of god could save their souls that April day
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| Tell their wives that they fought bravely as they lay them in their graves
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| As the train pulled in the station and the families gathered 'round
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| You could hear the first car echo with a loud triumphant sound
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| But the last car it was silent, they listened close but they couldn’t hear
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| It was laden down with coffins, that didn’t speak and couldn’t cheer
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| Now the battle hymns are playing, report of shots not far away
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| No prayer, no promise, no hand of god could save their souls that April day
|
| Tell their wives that they fought bravely as they lay them in their graves
|
| As the train pulled in the station and the families gathered 'round
|
| You could hear the first car echo with a loud triumphant sound
|
| Now the battle hymns are playing, report of shots not far away
|
| No prayer, no promise, no hand of god could save their souls that April day
|
| Now the battle hymns are playing, report of shots not far away
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| No prayer, no promise, no hand of god could save the souls of the blue and gray
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| Tell their wives that they fought bravely as they lay them in their graves |