| They laid beneath the pine trees with their caps over their eyes
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| They were drunk with home and mama as they brushed away the flies
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| In an instant before the sunrise they had gunned the rebels down
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| As their flags were torn at half mast in the ruins of the town
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| There were white sails on the water for the crippled on the beach
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| There was a lack of ammunition so the cause was incomplete
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| When the bugle blew at breakfast and they knew their ships were in
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| Signs of grand assurance were carried on the wind
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| Take it home, take it low, take responsibilities
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| Came the message from the front
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| For the captains, captains quarters must retreat
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| Pack the compass, pack the tents, take the bunks
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| They just chalked it down in history but they kept their uniforms
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| They put their medals on the sideboards and they went back to their farms
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| For it was just a mere reminder that they stood beside the best
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| That God had saved the chosen few and the devil took the rest
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| On the plains above the rock face where the sculptured eagles swoop
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| There’s a haunted yell for action among the spectres of his troops
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| It was silent on the coastline as the crazy angels danced
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| With the sound of retreating footfall from his military camp |