From A Georgia Battlefield (with Atlanta Pops Orchestra Ensemble)

All my glorious dreams of battle
And my uniform of grey
Now are ruined as my blood spills
On this rock hard Georgia clay

Sixteen summers I have seen pass
But to suffer in this sun
I declare, I don't remember
I've ever felt a hotter one

Take this message to my mother
Thirteen miles from Birmingham
Tell her I was a good soldier
And I died a brave young man

We have fought through heat and hunger
Sleepless nights and bitter frost
But if Sherman takes Atlanta
Then our cause is surely lost
Sir, I have no boots to give you
Mine wore through sometime in May
But you can take my gun and powder
I won't be needing them today

Take this message to my mother
Thirteen miles from Birmingham
Tell her I was a good soldier
And I died a brave young man

In my pocket there's a bible
With a lock of hair inside
From my sweet Amanda Walker
Who would make a lovely bride
Oh the angels now are coming
For my final breath is near
Yes, for me this war is over
But my eyes will show no fear

Take this message to my mother
Thirteen miles from Birmingham
Tell her I was a good soldier
And I died a brave young man