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