Sullivan Ballou, July of 1861
Wrote to his wife
And seven odd days later, he lost his life
In the first battle of Bull Run

And the red, red, red, red breeze
Brushes against your cheek
Heaven it is said shall be my breath

Oh, my Sarah dear
Do not mourn me dead
Think I am gone and wait for me
For we shall meet again

My love for you is deathless
Unlike the flesh of men
So if my love of country leaves me breathless
And I cannot let you my love again

Remember when the breeze
Brushes against your cheek
Heaven it is said shall be my breath

Oh, my Sarah dear
Do not mourn me dead
Think I am gone and wait for me
For we shall meet again

Our future lies in a shade
And Sarah, you must rise
From ashes

When the breeze
Brushes against your cheek
Heaven it is said shall be my breath

When the breeze
Brushes against your cheek
Heaven is telling you my breath

Oh, my Sarah
Waiting for thee
For we shall meet again
Sullivan