Tramp, Tramp, Tramp

2 Flats

In the prison cell I sit,Thinking, mother dear, of you,And our bright and happy home so far away,And the tears they fill my eyes,Spite of all that I can do,Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.

Chorus—Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,O, cheer up, comrades, they will come,And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again,Of the free land in our own beloved home.

In the battle front we stoodWhen the fiercest charge they made,And they swept us off a hundred men or more,But before we reached their linesThey were beaten back dismayed,And we heard the cry of victory, o'er and o'er. —Cho.