Standard (EADGBE)

Just after Appomattox

 two last bullets and a bell

 for the honest and the after

 that the tragic curtain fell

There beneath the flood of headlines

and the Mississippi spray

the wreck of the Sultana lies

buried to this day

buried to this day, boys

, (bend string),

(Continued for the rest of the song)

The Sultana was a steamboat

she made a New Orleans - Carol run

when a greedy Captain Mason heard

that since the war is done

And the union POWs

are free now, Uncle Sam is paying for their passage home, five dollars every man

Well that's four a head, the Captain said

calculating calm

a dollar per to the officers

should grease the Judas paw

So on a steamboat built to carry

three fifty with crew

twenty three hundred herded

a huddled multitude of purple scars

and leather shadows, midtattered, stitched and torn

What little's always left of glory's human uniform

a human uniform, boys

And when you figure in civilian men, women, children too

there's five hundred more plus the horses, cargo, coal and crew

And so it was and it wasn't the number's that night

you see the boiler needed grave repairs

but the Captain had rushed a patch job

so as not to lose one precious fare

And so, asleep, afloat beneath a sleepy Memphis sky

it came to pass a flame, a flash

and death, she opened wide

And the force of the blast took the fortunate, fast asleep, dreams to dust

but the rest awoke, chest to boat, with the thunder and the thrust

As the smokestacks smashed through the upper decks,

a screaming axe had fell

and a splintered rain of men and flames

pinned in a crush of hell

And diving in, the drowning men, entangled anchor's roar

their frantic limbs heavy in the anesthetic coal

And it was swollen ?that's a silence?, the river reaked her spoils

as the stoney moon stared on and on

where the ?general recoiled?

Until the morning sun rose warm upon the lucky living through

the hell and the highwater maze he'd steered them straight into

I ain't saying the Captain's evil

I ain't saying he's any good

just whereever he stood to profit

that's where he stood

He may have stood until the flames forked over

paid dearly what the river pulls down

but all the accounts will tell you

how his body was never found

It was the end of the Sultana

the end of many good men as well

so for now we'll end the story

that couldn't count on time to tell

Though deadlier than the Titanic's legendary fall

I guess it's less romantic, mostly soldiers after all

More dead than Shiloh, Chickamauga

and others lesser known

more anthems send a soldier off

than ever sing him home

than ever sing him home, boys