Marty Robbins - Ballad of the alamo

^DmIn the southern part of Texas In the ^Ctown of San Antone There's a ^Dmfortress all in ^Fruins that the^A weeds have over^Dmgrown You may look in vain for crosses and you'll ^Cnever see a-one But some^Dmtimes between the ^Fsetting and the ^Crising of the ^Dmsun

You can ^Chear a ghostly ^Dmbugle As the ^Cmen go marching ^Dmby You can ^Chear them as they ^Dmanswer To that ^Aroll call in the ^Dmsky

^CColonel Travis, ^FDavy Crockett, ^Cand a hundred ^Feighty more ^E7Captain Dickenson, ^AJim Bowie ^E7Present and ^A7accounted for

^DmBack in 1836, ^CHouston said to ^DmTravis “Get some volun^Fteers and go ^AFortify the ^DmAlamo”

Well the ^Cmen came from ^DmTexas And from ^Fold Tennes^Csee And they ^Dmjoined up with ^CTravis Just to ^Ffight for the ^Cright to be ^A7free.

^DmIndian scouts with squirrel guns ^CMen with muzzle-^Dmloaders Stood together, ^Fheel and toe ^ATo defend the ^DmAlamo.

“You may ^Cne'er see your ^Dmloved ones,” Travis ^Ftold them that ^Cday “Those who ^Dmwant to can ^Cleave now Those who ^Ffight to the ^Cdeath let 'em ^A7stay.”

^DmIn the sand he drew a line ^CWith his army ^Dmsabre Out of a hundred ^Feighty five ^ANot a soldier ^Dmcrossed the line

With his ^Cbanners a-^Dmdancin' In the ^Fdawns' golden ^Clight Santa ^DmAnna came ^Cprancing On a ^Fhorse that was ^Cblack as the ^A7night.

^DmSent an officer to tell ^CTravis to ^Dmsurrender Travis answered ^Fwith a shell ^AAnd a rousing ^Dmrebel yell

Santa ^CAnna turned ^Dmscarlet “Play ^FDuguello!” he^C roared “I will ^Dmshow them no ^Cquarter Every ^Fone will be ^Cput to the^A7 sword!”

^DmOne hundred and eighty five ^CHolding back five ^Dmthousand Five days, six days, ^Feight days, ten ^ATravis held and ^Dmheld again

Then he ^Csent for re^Dmplacements For his ^Fwounded and ^Clame But the ^Dmtroops that were ^Ccoming Never ^Fcame, never ^Ccame, never ^A7came...

^DmTwice he charged and blew recall ^COn the fatal ^Dmthird time Santa Anna ^Fbreached the wall ^AAnd he killed them, ^Dmone and all

Now the ^Cbugles are ^Dmsilent And there's ^Frust on each ^Csword And the ^Dmsmall band of ^Csoldiers... Lie a^Fsleep in the arms of the Lord...

^DmIn the southern part of Texas Near the ^Ctown of San Antone Like a ^Dmstatue on his ^Fpinto rides a ^Acowboy all ^Dmalone And he sees the cattle grazing where a ^Ccentury before Santa ^DmAnna's guns were ^Fblazing and the ^Ccannons used to ^Dmroar

And his ^Ceyes turn sorta ^Dmmisty And his ^Cheart begins to ^Dmglow And he ^Ctakes his hat off ^Dmslowly... To the ^Amen of the ^DmAlamo To the ^Cthirteen days of ^Dmglory At the ^Asiege of ^DmAlamo...