Exhausted on the ground I lie,
While at half-mast the flag doth fly
From a bullet wound I bleed
I have been wounded, by others deed
Above us now, a raven's cry
While at half-mast the flag doth fly
Must I lay here on the ground?
The screech of cannon, what a dreadful sound
Months ago I bid my love goodbye
While at half-mast the flag did fly
The battle is won, victory ours
Alone on a hill a few lonely flowers
Now upon this ground I die,
While at half-mast the flag doth fly