DO THEY MISS ME IN THE TRENCHES?
A VICKSBURG SONG.
Air—“Do They Miss Me At Home?”
|Do they miss me in the trenches, do they miss me,|
When the shells fly so thickly around?
Do they know that I’ve run down the hillside
To hunt for my hole in the ground?
The shell exploded so near me,
It seemed best for me to run;
And altho’ some laugh’d as I crawfished,
I could not discover the fun.
I often get up in the trenches,
When some Yank is near out of sight,
And fire a round or two at him,
To make the boys think I will fight;
But when the Feds commence shelling,
I run to my hole down the hill—
I’ll swear my legs never would stay there,
Altho’ all may stay there that will.
I’ll save myself thro’ the dread struggle,
And when the great battle is o’er,
I’ll claim my full rations of laurels,
As always I’ve done heretofore.
I’ll swear that I fought them as bravely
As the best of my comrades who fell—
And swear to all others around me,
That I never had fears of a shell.