The gray smoke from the battle
Rollin’ over the hill.
The fires, the dead, the dying
Are in my memory ever still.
Oh, can’t you hear,
Hear that angel band
Singing, “Come home, soldier,
To the Promised Land.”
Longstreet, he stole away and cried
When Lee gave him the orders to attack.
In his mind’s eye he could see
That most of his boys would not be back.
Oh, can’t you hear,
Hear that angel band
Singing, “Come home, soldier,
To the Promised Land.”
Willy Johnson and me,
Rebel soldiers both from Tennessee.
Willy, he’s lyin’ by my side –
Spoke these words to me, and then he died:
Oh, can’t you hear,
Hear that angel band
Singing, “Come home, soldier,
To the Promised Land.”