McAuley Ali

Half way down the trail to hell,
in a shady meadow green,
are the souls of all dead troopers camped,
near a good ol'e time canteen,
and this eternal resting place is known as Fiddler's Green,
Marching past straight through to hell,
the infantry are seen,
accompanied by the engineers, artillery and marines,
for none but the shades of cavalrymen,
dismount at fiddlers green,
though some go curving down the trail to seek a warmer scene,
no trooper ever gets to hell ere' hes emptied his canteen,
and so rides back to drink again with friends at fiddlers green,
and so when man and horse go down beneath a sabre keen,
or in a roaring charge of fierce meelee you stop a bullet clean,
and the hostiles come to get your scalp,
just empty your canteen, and put your pistol to your head,
and go to fiddlers green