

Prompt / Lyrics
The April air was sweet and still, the dogwoods were in bloom When we marched into the Tennessee to meet a quiet doom I’m just a boy from Tallahatchie with a musket in my hand A long way from the cotton rows and the red clay of my land We stacked our arms at breakfast time, the coffee barely black Before the bugle screamed out loud and the sky began to crack. (Chorus) Oh, the sun went down on Shiloh, and the moon was pale and thin Watching over brothers who would never breathe again The peach trees lost their blossoms to a leaden, iron rain And the Tennessee is running with a deep and heavy stain We came for glory and the flag, beneath a Southern sky But we’re just names on wooden crosses where the fallen soldiers lie. (Verse 2) I found a spot near Hornet’s Nest, behind a fallen oak The world became a hazy blur of sulfur and of smoke I saw a boy in Union blue, no older than my kin He was reaching for a canteen with a hole inside his skin I didn’t feel the hatred then, I didn't feel the pride I only saw the way he shook before the light inside him died. (Bridge) They say that General Sherman’s got a fire in his eye And Grant is drinking whiskey while the wounded start to cry But they ain't here in the thicket where the brambles catch the soul Where the only thing that’s certain is the thunder and the roll. (Verse 3) The rain began at midnight, washing dirt into my eyes To drown the sound of horses and the low and lonely cries I’m leaning 'gainst a cedar stump, my spirit’s sinking low Waiting for the morning light to tell me where to go If I don’t see the Tallahatchie or the porch back at the farm Just tell my mama that I’m sleeping in the Savior’s steady arm. (Chorus) Oh, the sun went down on Shiloh, and the moon was pale and thin Watching over brothers who would never breathe again The peach trees lost their blossoms to a leaden, iron rain And the Tennessee is running with a deep and heavy stain We came for glory and the flag, beneath a Southern sky But we’re just names on wooden crosses where the fallen soldiers lie. (Outro) The blossoms fall like winter snow... In the orchard where the grasses grow... Down in Shiloh... Lord, take me home.
Tags
Somber folk ballad, deep baritone, haunting civil war snare cadence, acoustic guitar, raw historical outlaw country
4:59
No
2/20/2026