Buried in a field of crosses, the ghost of an American son
Seventeen at Vicksburg when he heard the thunder of the guns
And his friends were all there with him when they laid him
beneath the frost
The preacher said ..The brotherhood of battle is always greater
then the cause
Nightmare of blastin' light, ashes in the wind
I couldn't find him to say goodbye; he was my only friend
All the kinfolk met the train that carried Luther Lane
I had a few in his name; I got good and drunk for Luther Lane
Six white horses pulled the carriage the band played nearer my
God to thee
And all the children were starin', Luther, the missing part of
me
I got an all of a sudden taste for whiskey as I was cold and it
was gettin' late
I know I shouldn't have done it but I nicked a buck off the
collection plate
Gendarme he grabbed my arm and dragged me off to jail
I'm sittin here one-legged Luther
I know you woulda posted bail
All the kinfolk met the train that carried Luther Lane
I had a few in his name; I got good and drunk for Luther Lane
You sure did make it tough for Job and me, my Lord
Two bodies fell as one casualty of war
I shoulda gone down under the ground with all the corps
When you've survived enough it's not enough for some Lord I know
