Letras
I am a Highland County boy, William is my name
I farmed those Rocky Hills before the Jackson is to James
My brothers they all joined the cause, but I was left behind
Too old to hold in mama's arms and much too frail to fight
I remember the day they marched away, they sang down Richmond Road
Old Lincoln's bound like old John Brown for the long end of a rope
One died at Manassas, sir, one at Malvern Hill
And after making it through that, Archer he took ill
Charley's loss was not confirmed when they fought at Cross Keys
The last sight that they had of him was crawling through the weeds
A letter said a shower of lead had hit the men down low
And they danced around like old John Brown on the long end of a rope
A spark of plow to rock is now the only fight I've known
And the songs of victory that they sang don't help the seeds I've sown
'Tis wickedness and self-conceit that is the deign of man
The farmer and the land compete is God's first reprimand
There'll be a day the blue and gray will hear the trumpets blow
And they'll dance around like old John Brown on the long end of a rope