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'Til the Last Shot's Fired

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

I was there in the winter of '64

When we camped in the ice at Nashville's door

Three hundred miles our trail had lead

We barely had time to bury our deadWhen the Yankees charged and the colors fell

Overton Hill was a living hell

When we called retreat, it was almost dark

I died with a grape shot in my heartSay a prayer for peace for every fallen son

Set my spirit free, let me lay down my gun

Sweet Mother Mary I'm so tired

But I can't come home 'til the last shot's firedIn June of 1944

I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores

Twenty-one and scared to death

My heart pounding in my chestI almost made the first sea wall

When my friends turned and saw me fall

I still smell the smoke, I can taste the mud

As I lay there dying from a loss of bloodSay a prayer for peace for every fallen son

Set my spirit free, let me lay down my gun

Sweet Mother Mary I'm so tired

But I can't come home 'til the last shot's firedI'm in the fields of Vietnam

The mountains of Afghanistan

And I'm still hoping, waiting, praying

I did not die in vainSay a prayer for peace for every fallen son

Set our spirits free, let us lay down our guns

Sweet Mother Mary we're so tired

But we can't come home 'til the last shot's fired

'Til the last shot's firedSay a prayer for peace, for peace for our daughters and our sons

Set our spirits free, set us free, let us lay down our guns

Sweet Mother Mary we're so tired

But we can't come home

No we can't come home 'til the last shot's fired

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