Blossom Hill Cemetery over Memorial Day weekend.
There was a young man,
named Moses Malone,
he was born in our town,
we considered him our own.
Moses was orphaned young,
lived here and a little there,
people watched him grow,
a fine young man, people did care.
For fifty dollars he signed on the line,
the army recruiter promised much,
heard he was at Gettysburg,
but locals say he fell out of touch.
The train arrived at the depot,
on a very foggy Sunday morn,
a flagged draped coffin unloaded,
another soldier forlorn.
They say Moses died a young hero,
with just fifty dollars to his name,
the undertaker took his money,
placing him on the last train.
The people did gather,
on the hallowed hill for the hero home,
there was a young man,
named Moses Malone.
