Bugles are calling from prairie to shore
"Sign up" and "Fall In" and march off to war
Blue grass and cotton, burnt and forgotten
All hope seems gone so soldier march on to die

Bugles are calling from prairie to shore
"Sign up" and "Fall In" and march off to war

There in the distance a flag I can see
Scorched and in ribbons but whose can it be
How ends the story, whose is the glory
Ask if we dare, our comrades out there who sleep