Little Big Horn

Little Big Horn
Hey Mr. Custer,
Why do you dare the hand of fate?
The claw of death awaits to grab
A golden medal, your honor idolized
Your heart is stone, your blood is iced

Ceaseless rifle fire
Blowing your dreams away
The barrels are running hot
What a painful bloody day
Last fight at Little Big Horn
The hand of death was waiting
To take the soldier blue away
Last fight at Little Big Horn
Where the last command was given
And all the soldiers fought in vain
The soldiers are riding, unprepared for the attack
A touch of death, the shotguns crack
The blood is flowing, the desert sand turns red
Why did you lead them to this trap?
Ceaseless rifle fire
Blowing your dreams away
The barrels are running hot
What a painful bloody day
Last fight at Little Big Horn
The hand of death was waiting
To take the soldier blue away
Last fight at Little Big Horn
Where the last command was given
And all the soldiers fought in vain