He was just a blue-eyed Boston boy His voice was low with pain I’ll do your bidding comrade mine If I ride back again But if you ride back and I am left You’ll do as much for me Mother, you know, must hear the news So write to her tenderly 
She’s waiting at home like a patient saint Her fond face pale with woe Her heart will be broken when I am gone I’ll see her soon I know Just then the order came to charge For an instant hand touched hand They said "aye" and away they rode That brave and devoted band 
Straight was the track to the top of the hill The rebels they shot and shelled Ploughed furrows of death through the toiling ranks And guarded them as they fell There soon came a horrible dying yell From heights they could not gain And those that doom and death had spared Rode slowly back again 
But among the dead that were left on the hill Was the boy with the curly hair The tall dark man that rode by his side Lay dead beside him there There’s no one to write to the blue-eyed girl The words her lover had said Mama, you know, awaits the news She’ll only know he’s dead 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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