They knew not their fate had been sealed

By an able, creative foe, so cleverly concealed

Upon nimble steeds in pursuit of feints unrecognized

So magnificently carried out was the guise

Under full gallop, colors unfurled in proud display

They could not know, the ride would be, their last day

Quickly the plot encircled them until they were

In the midst of the fatal fray, oh the battle that ensued

With hostiles they would hopelessly try to hold at bay

For the Seventh Cavalry, the "Garryowen" did not play

About the Little Big Horn, the carnage lay, oh June day

Brave soldiers in death, bodies about the battlefield lay

The mighty Sioux nation a stunning victory scored

They did not know, it was only a victory of battle

The beginning of the loss of their war was now certain

This battle, the rattle of muskets that would follow

Sounded the final curtain call for the braves all

Engaged in the conflict with Sitting Bull in that place

A dusty battlefield in the wilds of Montana Territory

Red men across the width and breadth of the new land

Could not  the onslaught of a mightier foe withstand

Red blood from red men, red blood from white men

Tarnished the prairies, fields, every corner of the land

The demise of the red man's power over his land, at hand

Custer's column of two hundred-twenty-five slain men that day

Maybe the "Garryowen" did loudly play, that June day

As the lyrics say, " And our band plays, Garryowen"