Boom bah bah,
Boom bah bah boom,
Twelve riders in the gloom
Seven show red and the rest are dead,
But the First Battalion's home.
Boom bah bah,
Boom bah bah boom,
You can hear the hoof beats boom,
The drums are low and the pace is slow,
But the First Battalion's home.
So run to your homes, Virginia gals
And fix your hair with pins
And give them wine and kisses,
But don't ask them where they've been.
Boom bah bah,
Boom bah bah boom,
And Richmond is their tomb,
There's a hundred still at Richmond,
Three hundred dead at Gettysburg,
And a hundred more we've never found,
But the First Battalion's home.
So hold him close and keep him warm
And hang his coat away
And don't you mind that spot of red,
That's spread in through the gray.
Boom bah bah,
Boom bah bah boom,
And Richmond is their tomb,
There's a hundred still at Richmond,
Three hundred dead at Gettysburg,
And a hundred more we've never found,
But the First Battalion's home.