He Was just a Blue Eyed Boston Boy
His voice was low with pain
I'll do your bidding comrade mine
If you will do the same
But if you ride on and I should fall
You'll do as much for me
My mother at home is awaiting the news
So write to her tenderly

She Is waiting at home like a patient Saint
Her pale face filled with woe
Her heart will be broken when I am dead
I'll see her face no more

Just then the order came to charge
For a moment Hand touched hand
They answered "aye" and on they rode
That brave and devoted band

Straight way was the course to the top of the hill
and the Rebels with shot and shell
Plowed furroughs of death through the toiling ranks
and guarded them as they fell

There soon came a horrible dying sound
from the heights they could not gain
and those that doom and death had spared
Rose slowly back again

But among the dead at the top of the hill
Lay the boy with the golden hair
and the tall dark man that rode by his side
Lay still beside him there

There was no one to write to his blue eyed girl
the words that her lover had said
And mother at home is awaiting her son
She'll only find he's dead
While mother at home is awaiting her son
She'll only find he's dead