The Blue and the Grey

It was July the third, 1863
a day of pain and misery
an hour of courage, an hour of honour
an hour of dying, an hour of horror

For two days now, they had fought unceasing,
with riffles and cannons and shots releasing,
neither willing to stop and yield,
blood running in rivers on the field

The air was filled with the moans of the dying,
the wails and the tears, so many were crying
You could barely hear above the din,
praying to the Lord to forgive your sin

A breath of fire, a flash of light
they will not hold throughout the night
Someone will break, and they'll break soon
the battle will end this afternoon

Old Lee, the general, he sees his men failing,
as they're hit by bullets like ice when it's hailing
He calls to his captains, he signals to Pickett
"If this is the end, then so be it."

So he rallies his men and they form their lines,
ready to fulfill the oath that binds
Afraid they might be, but they won't let it show
as they march the mile, steady and slow

A wave of grey sweeps up the hill,
feeling no fear, ready to kill
The Yankees in blue watch with uncertain eyes
Will this charge of the rebels be their demise?

Shoulder to shoulder, each man lifts his head
though his thundering heart is filled with dread
they've made it this far, they can't stop now
this cowardly thing, their hearts won't allow

A boom and a crash, like a storm of thunder,
all the Angels in Heaven watch in wonder
as grey against blue crash together
teacher and student, brother and brother

Chaos breaks out, their lines dissolve
to make a valiant stand is the rebels' resolve
but they know it's a waste, they know they've been beat
and, sorrowing, they begin to retreat

All those who are left, of which there are few
pull back and yield to the Union blue,
in less than an hour more than five thousand have died,
and more tears than five thousand have the soldiers cried

No man talks in the camp that night,
none can forget that terrible sight
"This is all my fault," Lee says to his silent crowd,
"but we almost did it; for that you should be proud."

But "almost" doesn't matter, they still suffered defeat
and they're weary and sorrowful, tired and beat
Now nothing can raise their spirits up high
all their friends on the field out there lie

A glorious defeat, a victorious loss,
more than five thousand men is what it costs.
In that hour, nothing went right
and now they must face the saddest night

*This last part is historically incorrect. Both the Union and Confederate
held their positions until the night of July 4th. The Confederates did not
retreat immediately after the Charge.