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作曲 : George F. Root |
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In the prison cell sit, thinking Mother dear of you. |
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And our bright and happy home so far away. |
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And the tears they fill mu eyes spite of all that I can do. |
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So I try to cheer my comrades and be gay. |
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Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching. |
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Cheer up comrades they will come. |
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And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again. |
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Of the free land in our own beloved home. |
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In the battlefront we stood, when their fiercest charge they made. |
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And they swept us off hundred men or more. |
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But before we reached their lines, they were beaten back dismayed |
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And we heard the cry of victorious o’er and o’er. |
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Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching. |
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Cheer up comrades they will come. |
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And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again. |
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Of the free land in our own beloved home. |
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So within the prison cell, we are waiting for the day. |
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That shall come to open wide the iron door. |
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And the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor heart almost gay. |
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As we think df seeing home and friends once more. |
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Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching. |
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Cheer up comrades they will come. |
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And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again. |
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Of the free land in our own beloved home. |
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Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching. |
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Cheer up comrades they will come. |
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And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again. |
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Of the free land in our own beloved home. |
