Til the Last Shot's Fired - The Hit Crew
I was there in the winter of sixty-four
When we camped in the ice at Nashville's doors
Three hundred miles our trail had lead
We barely had time to bury our dead
When the Yankees charged and the colors fell
Overton hill was a living hell
When we called retreat it was almost dark
I died with a grapeshot in my heart
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home til the last shot's fired
In June of nineteen and fourty-four
I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores
Twenty-one and scared to death
My heart pounding in my chest
I almost made the first seawall
When my friends turned and saw me fall
I still smell the smoke I can taste the mud
As I lay there dying from a loss of blood
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set my spirit free
Let me lay down my gun
Sweet mother Mary I'm so tired
But I can't come home til the last shot's fired
I'm in the fields of Vietnam
The mountains of Afghanistan
And I'm still hoping waiting praying
I did not die in vain
Say a prayer for peace
For every fallen son
Set our spirits free
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary we're so tired
But we can't come home til the last shot's fired
Til the last shot's fired
Say a prayer for peace (for peace)
For our daughters and our sons
Set our spirits free (set us free)
Let us lay down our guns
Sweet mother Mary we're so tired
But we can't come home (no we can't come home)
Til the last shot's fired
