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A song about a lost troop of Civil War soldiers who perished in the swamps of Pennsylvania. They lyrics were written by my songwriting partner, Jim Brindle, and the music was composed for those lyrics. With or without words, the piece is haunting.


Warriors of the Mist

I left Altoona in 1861
A Pennsylvania regular, my mother’s son
This land’s suffered a great divide
Our country’s future we must decide
My bride and a daughter were left behind
Through Maryland, Virginia and Caroline
Eatin’ nothing but jerky and hard tack bread
Fightin’ rebels, mosquitoes and all the dread

So long darlin’, so long since kissed
O, woe on the warriors of the mist

On the Broad river, on the York County line
Me and some others were left behind
They say we deserted, but it ain’t so
The rest just left, and we didn’t go
Nobody had bothered our family
I’d been just as happy just to let them be
No, I ain’t deserted, I just quit
Tired of marchin’, and fightin’ and all their shit

Goodbye Mother, so badly missed
Woe on the warriors of the mist

Spent my 19th birthday in a squalid field
A place in Georgia called Andersonville
No one escaped, though many men tried
Most got sick, so many died
And so did I, but my story doesn’t end
I’ve arisen and died many times since then
For so many wars I can’t recall
To send our kids, and kill them all

Good reasons for their reasons just don’t exist
O, woe on the warriors of the mist

Jim Brindle & PJ Brunson
© 2010