Ballad of the Alamo Marty Robbins akordy

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^DmIn the southern part of Texas, in the ^Ctown of San Antone

There's a ^Dmfortress all in ruins, that the weeds have overgrown

^DmYou may look in vain for crosses and you'll ^Cnever see a one

But ^Dmsometimes between the setting and the ^Crising of the ^Fsun

You can ^Chear a ghostly ^Fbugle, as the ^Cmen go marchin' ^Fby

You can ^Chear them as they ^Dmanswer to the roll call in the sky

^CColonel Travis, ^FDavy Crockett, ^Cand a hundred ^Feighty more

^E7Captain Dickinson, ^A7Jim Bowie, ^E7present and ^A7accounted for

^DmBack in eighteen thirty-six, Houston said to Travis

^DmGet some volunteers ^Cand go, ^Dmfortify the Alamo

Well the ^Fmen came from Texas and from ol' Tennes ^Csee

And they ^Fjoined up with ^CTravis, just to ^Ffight for the ^Cright to be ^A7free

^DmIndian scouts with squirrel guns, men with muzzle loaders

^DmStood together heel ^Cand toe, ^Dmto defend the Alamo

You may ^Fne'er see your loved ones, Travis told them that ^Cday

Those who ^Fwant to can ^Cleave now, those who'll ^Ffight to the ^Cdeath, let 'em ^A7stay

^DmIn the sand he drew a line, with his army saber

^DmOut of a hundred and eighty- ^Cfive, ^Dmnot a soul to cross the line

With his ^Fbanners a ^Dmdancin', in the ^Fdawn's golden ^Clight

Santa ^FAnna came ^Cprancin', on a ^Fhorse that was ^Cblack as the ^A7night

^DmSent an officer to tell Travis to surrender

^DmTravis answered with a ^Cshell, and a ^Dmrousin' rebel yell

Santa ^FAnna turned ^Dmscarlet, "Play ^FDeguello" he ^Croared

I will ^Fshow them no ^Cquarter, every ^Fone will be ^Cput to the ^A7sword

^DmOne hundred and eighty-five, holdin' back five thousand

^DmFive days, six days, eight days, ^Cten, ^DmTravis held and held again

Then he ^Fsent for ^Dmreplacements, for his ^Fwounded and ^Clame

But the ^Ftroops that were ^Ccomin', never ^Fcame, never ^Ccame, neverc^A7ame

^DmTwice he charged and blew recall, on the fatal third time

^DmSanta Anna breached ^Cthe wall, ^Dmand he killed them one and all

Now the Fbugles are  Dmsilent, and there's  Frust on each  Csword
        Dm             C          silent F
And the small band of  soldiers,  lie asleep in the arms of the Lord

^Dm

^DmIn the southern part of Texas, near the ^Ctown of San Antone

Like a ^Dmstatue on his pinto, ^Dmrides a cowboy all alone

^DmAnd he sees the cattle grazin', where a ^Ccentury before

Santa ^DmAnna's guns were blazin', and the ^Ccannon used to ^Froar

And his ^Ceyes turn sorta ^Fmisty as his ^Cheart begins to ^Fglow

And he ^Ctakes his hat off ^Dmslowly...to the men of Alamo

To the ^Cthirteen days of ^Dmglory...at the siege of ^DmAlamo

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