The American Battle Flag
Red white and blue, in the sky that she flew
Old glory she fly’s, so high in the night
For the battle fields we come, for that horrible fight
Charge, charge, charge, the commander yells
With most outrageous spite, as the troops prepare
For that monstrous fight
The enemy crouch down, as our boots pound the ground
We crested the mound, the troops they have found
Beaten and tattered, oh what’s the matter
Blood stained and maimed as she defended their names
As the smoke settles down, the smell of victory surround
The taste of their sweat at the goals they have met
Old glory she fly’s so high in the night
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