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OFF WITH YOUR GRAY SUITS, BOYS! By Lieut. Falligant, Savannah, Ga.
Off with gray suits, boys !
Off with your rebel gear ! It smacks too much of the cannon's peal, The lightning flash of your deadly steel,
And fills our hearts with fear.
The color is like the smoke,
That curled o'er your battle line; It calls to mind the yell that woke, When the dastard columns before you broke, And their dead wore your fatal sign!
Off with your starry wreaths,
Ye who have led our van ! For you 'twas the pledge of a glorious death, As we followed you over the glorious heath,
When we whipped them man to man!
Down with the cross and stars !
Too long has it waved on high; 'Tis covered all over with battle scars, But its gleam the hated banner marsó
'Tis time to lay it by.