just before the battle mother I'm thinking most of you while upon thefield we're watching with the enemy in view comrades brave round me lyingfilled with thoughts of home and God for well they know that on the morrow somewill sleep beneath the sod farewell mother you may never press me to yourbreast again but oh you'll not forget me mother if I'm numbered with the slainhark I hear the bugle sounding tis the signal for the far now may God protectus mother as he ever does the right here the battle cry of freedomhow it swells upon the air oh yes we'll rally round the standard or we'llperish nobly the fire well mother you may never press me to your breast againbut oh you'll not forget me mother if I'm numbered with the slain