Your fire monster slithered through Atlanta’s streets last night

It’s flaming tongue destroyed every timber left in sight,

I heard your soldiers cursing, then I heard my fam’ly pray

And somewhere in the distance I heard cheerful music play.

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

And turn that dreadful scene into a tragic cabaret,

Did they need to harmonize

With our broken-hearted cries?

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

I heard that sixty-thousand men stood proudly by the band

And kept time with our sorrow as the monster scorched the land,

But in our smoking rubble,  I could hear another sound

Of grieving mothers’ teardrops hissing softly on the ground.

Down here in the smoking ruins, we didn’t need to hear those tunes

To sing our sad farewell to the fading Rebel Yell.

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?

And turn that dreadful scene into a tragic cabaret,

Did they need to play along

‘Til our final dream was gone?

Tell me, Mister Sherman, did the band have to play?