| I turned 17, spring of 1861
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| And I killed 20 men 'fore I turned 21
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| 20 holes and 20 men, 20 holes they’s buried in
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| There they lay in the cold red Georgia play at Catoosa County
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| I can hear the screaming, I can smell black powder burning
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| Cannon balls flying and the Gatling guns turning
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| Thousand souls, a thousand men, a thousand holes they’s buried in
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| Shallow graves in the cold heart Georgia play at Catoosa County
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| And the blue and the gray, paint the colors of the light
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| How the old men found a way to send the young men out to die
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| If I could I would place a 100 billion dollar bounty
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| On the hate that makes a war that digs graves at Catoosa County
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| Night falling on the hills and the blue moon comes a-shining
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| And I can hear the weeper wail and the whining
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| And all the souls of all the men roll in the holes they’s buried in
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| Blue and gray and the blood red Georgia play at Catoosa County
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| And the blue and the gray, part the colors of the light
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| And it’s true you can’t pray but even God ain’t saying why
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| If I could I would place a 100 billion dollar bounty
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| On the hate that makes wars that digs graves at Catoosa County |