In the southern part of Texas
In the town of San Antone
There's a fortress all in ruins that the weeds have overgrown
You may look in vain for crosses and you'll never see a one
But sometimes between the setting and the rising of the sun
You can hear a ghostly bugle
As the men go marchin' by
You can hear them as they answer
To that roll call in the sky
Colonel Travis, Davy Crockett, and a hundred eighty more
Captain Dickinson, Jim Bowie
Present and accounted for
Back in 1836, Houston said to Travis
"Get some volunteers and go
Fortify the Alamo."
Well the men came from Texas
And from old Tennessee
And they joined up with Travis
Just to fight for the right to be free
Indian scouts with squirrel guns
Men with muzzle-loaders
Stood together, heel and toe
To defend the Alamo
"You may ne'er see your loved ones,"
Travis told them that day
"Those who want to can leave now
Those who fight to the d**h let 'em stay."
In the sand he drew the line
With his army sabre
Out of a hundred eighty five
Not a soldier crossed the line
With his banners a-dancin'
In the dawn's golden light
Santa Anna came prancin'
On a horse that was black as the night
Sent an officer to tell
Travis to surrender
Travis answered with a shell
And a rousin' rebel yell
Santa Anna turned scarlet
"Play degüello!" he roared
"I will show them no quarter
Every one will be put to the sword!"
One hundred and eighty five
Holdin' back five thousand
Five days, six days, eight days, ten
Travis held and held again
Then he sent for replacements
For his wounded and lame
But the troops that were comin'
Never came, never came, never came
Twice he charged then blew recall
On the fatal third time
Santa Anna breached the wall
And he k**ed them, one and all
Now the bugles are silent
And there's rust on each sword
And the small band of soldiers...
Lie asleep in the arms of the Lord...
In the southern part of Texas
Near the town of San Antone
Like a statue on his pinto rides a cowboy all alone
And he sees the cattle grazin' where a century before
Santa Anna's guns were blazin' and the cannons used to roar
And his eyes turn sorta misty
And his heart begins to glow
And he takes his hat off slowly...
To the men of Alamo...
To the thirteen days of glory
At the siege of Alamo...