On a park bench, an old man was sittin there.

I said, "Your court house is kinda run down,

He said, "No, it will do for our little town".

I said "your old flag pole kinda leaned a little bit,

And that's a ragged old flag you got hanging on it".

He said "have a seat", so I sat down,

He said, "is this your first visit to our little town"

I said, "I think it is"

He said "I don't like to brag, but we're kinda proud of

"That Ragged Old Flag"

"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there,

When Washington took it across the Delaware.

It got powder burned the night

Francis Scott Key sat watching it, writing

"Oh Say Can You See"

It got a rip in New Orleans, with Packingham & Jackson

tugging at its seams.

It almost fell at the Alamo beside the Texas flag,

But she waved on tho.

It got cut with a sword in Chancellorsville,

Got cut again at Shiloh Hill.

There was Robert E. Lee and Beauregard and Bragg,

And the south wind blew hard on

"That Ragged Old Flag"

On Flanders Field in World War I,

She took a bad hit from a Bertha Gun,

She turned blood red in World War II

She hung limp and low by the time that one was through,

She was in Korea, Vietnam,

She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam.

The Native Americans, The Black, Yellow and White

All shed red blood for the Stars and Stripes.

And here in her own good land,

She's been abused, burned, dishonored, denied and refused,

And the very government for which she stands

Has been scandalized throughout the land.

And she's getting thread bare, and she's wearing kinda thin,

But she's in pretty good shape, for the shape she's in.

Cause she's been through the fire before

and she can take a whole lot more.

So we raise her up every morning

And we bring her down slow every night,

We don't let her touch the ground,

And we fold her up right.

On second thought, I do like to brag

Cause I'm mighty proud of