Ben McCulloch
We signed up in San Antone
My brother Paul and me
To fight with Ben McCulloch
And the Texas infantry
Well, the poster said we'd get a uniform
And seven bucks a week
The best rations in the army
And a rifle we could keep
When I first laid eyes on the general
I knew he was a fightin' man
He was every inch a soldier
Every word was his command
Well, his eyes were cold as the lead and steel
Forged into tools of war
He took the lives of many
And the souls of many more
Well, they marched us to Missouri
And we hardly stopped for rest
Then he made this speech and said
We're comin' to the test
Well, we've got to take Saint Louie boys
Before the Yankees do
If we control the Mississippi
Then the Federals are through
Well, they told us that our enemy
Would all be dressed in blue
Well, they forgot about the winter's cold
And the cursed fever too
My brother died at Wilson's Creek
And Lord I seen him fall
We fell back to the Boston Mountains
In the North of Arkansas
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
I hate you more than any other man alive
And when you die
You'll be a foot soldier just like me
In the Devil's infantry
And on the way to Fayetteville
We cursed McCulloch's name
And mourned the dead that we'd left behind
And we was carrying the lame
I killed a boy the other night
Who'd never even shaved
I don't even know what I'm fightin' for
I ain't never owned a slave
So I snuck out of camp
And then I heard the news next night
The Yankees won the battle
And McCulloch lost his life
Yeah
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
I hate you more than any other man alive
And when you die
You'll be a foot soldier just like me
In the Devil's infantry
My brother Paul and me
To fight with Ben McCulloch
And the Texas infantry
Well, the poster said we'd get a uniform
And seven bucks a week
The best rations in the army
And a rifle we could keep
When I first laid eyes on the general
I knew he was a fightin' man
He was every inch a soldier
Every word was his command
Well, his eyes were cold as the lead and steel
Forged into tools of war
He took the lives of many
And the souls of many more
Well, they marched us to Missouri
And we hardly stopped for rest
Then he made this speech and said
We're comin' to the test
Well, we've got to take Saint Louie boys
Before the Yankees do
If we control the Mississippi
Then the Federals are through
Well, they told us that our enemy
Would all be dressed in blue
Well, they forgot about the winter's cold
And the cursed fever too
My brother died at Wilson's Creek
And Lord I seen him fall
We fell back to the Boston Mountains
In the North of Arkansas
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
I hate you more than any other man alive
And when you die
You'll be a foot soldier just like me
In the Devil's infantry
And on the way to Fayetteville
We cursed McCulloch's name
And mourned the dead that we'd left behind
And we was carrying the lame
I killed a boy the other night
Who'd never even shaved
I don't even know what I'm fightin' for
I ain't never owned a slave
So I snuck out of camp
And then I heard the news next night
The Yankees won the battle
And McCulloch lost his life
Yeah
Goddamn you Ben McCulloch
I hate you more than any other man alive
And when you die
You'll be a foot soldier just like me
In the Devil's infantry
Credits
Writer(s): Stephen F. (fain) Earle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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