in a prison cell I sit, thinking mother, dear, of you,
in a prison cell I sit, thinking mother, dear, of you, and our bright and happy home so far away;
 and the tears they fill my eyes, spite of all that I can do, though I try to cheer my comrades,and be gay.
 chorus tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching cheer up comrades, they will come! and beneath the starry flag,we will breathe the air again tramp! con'd of the freeland and our own beloved home.
 in the battle front we stood, when their fiercest charge they made and they carried us off a hundred men or more;
 but before we reached their lines, they were beaten back, dismayed, and we heard the cry of vic' try o' er and o' er.
 so within the prison cell we are waiting for the day that shall come to open wide the prison door;
 and the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor heart almost gay, as we think of seeing home and friends once more.
 ------------------------ prisoners of war seldom have the luxury of a private cell, in the american civil war when this was written, or today.
 I can't even remember where or when I learned this song, i've known and sung it for so long.
 in the 1980's when I first started doing 'workshops' at folk festivals on the boer war, I contacted the south african consulate in sydney, who put me on to several museums in south africa.
 the war museum of the boer republics in bloemfantein sent me a few songs afschied von sannie, sarie marais, marching to pretoria--they also sent me a copy of a 'concert program' of songs that were sung by boer women in a concentration camp during the boer war--this song, and 'hard times come again no more' were two of the songs that they sang--far too appropriate!