作曲 : George F. Root
In the prison cell sit, thinking Mother dear of you.
And our bright and happy home so far away.
And the tears they fill mu eyes spite of all that I can do.
So I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.
Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching.
Cheer up comrades they will come.
And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again.
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
In the battlefront we stood, when their fiercest charge they made.
And they swept us off hundred men or more.
But before we reached their lines, they were beaten back dismayed
And we heard the cry of victorious o’er and o’er.
Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching.
Cheer up comrades they will come.
And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again.
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
So within the prison cell, we are waiting for the day.
That shall come to open wide the iron door.
And the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor heart almost gay.
As we think df seeing home and friends once more.
Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching.
Cheer up comrades they will come.
And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again.
Of the free land in our own beloved home.
Tramp,tramp,tramp! The boys are marching.
Cheer up comrades they will come.
And beneath the starry flag , we shall breather the air again.
Of the free land in our own beloved home.