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Well sir, How shall I begin?
I’d like to begin that day I first met my Yellow Rose
unbaked skin in a fitted bodice
Wide flowing skirt, topmost skirt layer
revealing yellow petticoat
that perfectly suited her complexion
She was on the walk and walking free
Though she must have known
those cotton fields behind her
would one day hold her prisoner
while I, prisoner…
no, wait, I want to return to that image
the first time I saw her
and I prayed my Lord to make her mine
So that day I boldly strode up to her and said
Well, she said before I could say
That I was an incorrigible strutting rooster
So what could I say or do in return
But to grasp those alluring cheeks
Pull her face toward mine
And kiss her
I walked away, having gotten what I wanted
Knowing that next we met
that barrier, at least, would be broken
Broken was a word not to be used lightly
Here I was, broken from my state of Tennessee
Searching for a friend broken from his home
Who found himself in a battalion
Of a country that had just been broken
Not wanting to be seen without a uniform
I came to her at night
Embraced her
Promised lovers’ promises
And promised I’d return
As I went back home
And just east of my friend
Found myself in the 10th Tennessee Infantry Regiment
A gritty bunch of Eire-Landers
Who liked to sing songs
And fight with their fists
And, though fine soldiers
Tried to break my nose on several occasions
But when the trumpet sounded
They were ready to give their lives for me
As any decent soldier would do
None of us understood why we were fighting
But fight for our country we did
And after a battle
McSweeney would conveniently come up with some whiskey
And most of them would liquor out the memories of war
Myself, I stayed sober
Thinking of that day
When I’d return to my Rose
Atop a tall white horse
Well, the battles began and ended the same way
Until the day our skirmish took an unexpected turn
And those not killed were taken prisoner
They drug us along a piece
Which I thought was all to the good
As our lives may be preserved
But the end of our journey
Showed how very wrong a man can be
A rotten, stinking death place
Full of what could only be called living corpses
And the mournful cries of doomed men compounded by the thousands
I had heard of this place
But never could believe the truth
The Truth, however, stunk powerfully with the sweat, blood, and dung
Of the thousands upon thousands of men, merely fighting for their country
And were condemned here to suffer pain
Such as man had never inflicted upon fellow man before
I turned my eyes away, I didn’t want to count
But their dying sound gave them away
Each unique, a final death gasp, accompanied by a plea to his God
And, even though I didn’t want to know
I knew more than one hundred of us were departing each day
As I lay in the bed I had made in the dirt
I realized my time would be coming soon
For a small wound I bore in my arm
Had been gathering infection
Compounded by the dirt
And it would spread
Or maybe be cut off with a rusty saw
I am someone they wouldn’t keep alive
Just a man who yearns for his sweetheart
And doesn’t even understand this wicked war
So if you should run into my precious Rose
Please tell her
I tried to come, I tried my best
But one day I will be there
Riding on a tall white horse
With the Savior by my side
And if she should ask where I’ve been
Tell her, “Andersonville, My Love"
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