Karaoké Til the Last Shot's Fired Trace Adkins

I was there in the winter of sixty four

When we camped in the ice at Nashville's door

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 livin' 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 fourty four

I waited in the blood of Omaha's shores

Twenty one and scared to death

My heart poundin' in my chest

I almost made the first sea wall

When my friends turned and saw me fall

I still smell the smoke

I can taste the mud

As I lay there dyin' 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 hopin' waitin' prayin'

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

Sweet mother Mary we're so tired but we can't come home