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Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!

In the prison cell I sit, thinking Mother, dear, of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears, they fill my eyes 'spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.

Chorus:

Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,
Cheer up, comrades, they will come,
And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again

Of the free land in our own beloved home.
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7/25/2021 9:42:14 PM # 1.0.0.663