There was a lad named Johnny Gray.
Hooray! Hooray!
His mother cried when he went away.
Today! Today!
When Johnny comes marching home again,
Hooray! Hooray!
We will cry and shout and jump then,
When Johnny comes home once again,
If Johnny comes marching home again.
Poor Johnny won’t be marching here,
I fear! I fear!
They shot him down over there.
I hear! I hear!
He won’t be here to see no more,
Won’t have his face inside our door.
Johnny won’t be marching anymore.
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