To Live And Die

Now when all is quite and there is a still,

A presence of dark and a chill,

I feel phantoms between the pages,

Like ghosts ascending stairs.

Yet I still remember your whisper...

A whisper so long ago,

On the banks of the Yazoo,

Of the noon day setting sun.

Your hair of auburn turned to rust,

With the firing of a gun,

On the banks of the Yazoo,

My good days were done.

Now that I am old and feeble,

Asleep in my rocking chain.

I remember the days in Vicksburg, 

With cool tea that we shared,

On the banks of the Yazoo,

Before the Yankee shot you,

With the firing of a gun.

Now when all is quite and there is a still,

A presence of dark and a chill,

I feel phantoms between the pages,

Like ghosts ascending stairs.

"To live and die in Dixie,"

A whisper so long ago,

My good days were done

And it goes to show.

Cool tea is but a moment,

When the bullet was a lemon,

But you're still dead as nails,

Like ghosts ascending stairs.

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