History be kind to the Civil War lives left behind and the ones left frozen forever lost in the fields the battle cries fade after our enemies invade as the mist lifts away the scene is unveiled and the true becomes all too clear, forces collided and by death truth decided mans will is apparent all around

Young man as you stand in the middle of hell, what bravery holds you to your place, as the cannons erupted and tore through the trees, unarmed, hold steady the drum, its voice will command the directions we must take and the orders will be heard and echoed on for all forces to hear the song continues onto your brother who mimics your beat so the message can repeat and drive the soldiers on to victory

Terror, and shouts conspire bullets take flight as the air catches fire clear voices are impossible to understand, how can the forces control and convey what they know when cut off from the chain of command, the drum in the hands of the children demands the orders be followed by all, like a wave of emotion the sound controls the commotion as death and destruction are all around, despite their fear the drummers continue to play sounding the orders to be followed

Two sides clash together fighting stops, are parted forever and the drumming slows to a stop, and change the landscape forever and history waits to be found, you showed great courage for someone so young, the fight was not yours but you are compelled to take a stand, put the drums down and give care to the needy there is so much to be done in times of peace until reasons for unrest haunt the landscape again