| Hey Mr. Custer
|
| Why do you dare the hand of fate?
|
| The claw of death waits to grab
|
| A golden medal, your honor idolized
|
| Your heart is stone, your blood is iced
|
| Ceaseless rifle fire
|
| Blowing your dreams away
|
| The barrels are running hot
|
| What a painful bloody day
|
| Last fight at little big horn
|
| The hand of death was waiting
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| To take the soldier blue away
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| Last fight at little big horn
|
| Where the last command was given
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| And all the soldiers fought in vain
|
| The soldiers are riding, unprepared for the attack
|
| A touch of death, the shotguns crack
|
| The blood is flowing, the desert sand turns red
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| Why did you lead them to this trap?
|
| Ceaseless rifle fire
|
| Blowing your dreams away
|
| The barrels are running hot
|
| What a painful bloody day
|
| Last fight at little big horn
|
| The hand of death was waiting
|
| To take the soldier blue away
|
| Last fight at little big horn
|
| Where the last command was given
|
| And all the soldiers fought in vain |