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Winds of Atlanta
The Southern Cross
Look upon our flag of red;
Where many a Southern Soldier bled.
Upon that cross Saint Andrew died;
Our Southern Nation was crucified.
* * *
Through tear stained eyes I now recall;
Our Southern Banner upon the wall.
A thousand trumpets warn the call;
Never again we let it fall.
Take her out of dusty places;
Put a smile upon your faces.
O look again upon the wind;
Let not our flag again descent.
Should the past return again;
A Southern Nation at last to win.
In all the world they beckon call;
The Southern People to stand up tall.
Our Southern Banner upon the wall.
A thousand trumpets warn the call;
Never again we let it fall.
Take her out of dusty places;
Put a smile upon your faces.
O look again upon the wind;
Let not our flag again descent.
Should the past return again;
A Southern Nation at last to win.
In all the world they beckon call;
The Southern People to stand up tall.
We ourselves must take their places;
Of fallen warriors in all those spaces.
If once again her foes descend;
Our Southern Cross will feel the wind.
Never again nor at all once more;
Our Southern Flag as it was before;
Be furled away to be seen no more;
Forgotton memories a long ago war.
* * *
