I walked through a county courthouse square
On a park bench an old man was sitting there
I said, your old courthouse is kinda run down
He said, naw, it’ll do for our little town
I said, your old flagpole has leaned a little bit
And that’s a ragged old flag you got hanging on it
He said, have a seat, and I sat down
Is this the first time you’ve been 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
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing say can you see
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin’ at its seams
And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on though
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg
And the south wind blew hard on that ragged old flag
On Flanders field in World War one
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun
She turned blood red in World War Two
She hung limp and low a time or two
She was in Korea and Vietnam
She went where she was sent by Uncle Sam
She waved from our ships upon the Briny foam
And now they’ve about quit waving her back here at home
In her own good land here she’s been abused
She’s been burned, dishonored, denied, and refused
And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land
And she’s getting threadbare and wearing thin
But she’s in good shape for the shape she’s in
‘Cause she’s been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more
So we raise her up every morning
We take her down 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 that ragged old flag.
I won’t take any credit for the words of the late and great Johnny Cash.
But now my Ragged Old Flag has some more she wants to add.
Since Vietnam the world has evolved
The wars, the conflicts, the battle fields, what’s it gonna solve
From Washington State to the borders of California
From Maine to the Florida everglades
She continues to be burned, she continues to be stomped
For points trying to be made
Our ships were struck, our buildings brought down
Through the hatred, through the flames
Through the distress, through the rubbish
She still stood, ripped and stained, she takes a bow
From the burned streets of Somalia to the grounds of Benghazi
From the rugged mountains of Afghanistan to Iraq’s desert plains
She’s been pocketed, she’s been hung
She’s been flown, she’s been draped
She continues to cover coffins, so they don’t die in vain.
Still here at home, she gets abused
still gets burned, dishonored, denied, and refused
Her own people deny her through out her sacred lands
If she hadn’t sacrificed so much
Than why are our borders filled with caravans
The politicians still used her
scandalous throughout her lands
She still raises through reveille
lays to sleep through retreat with our militaries honorable hands
I may be considered a ragged retired army, old man
For over 20 years, I’ve carried the same flag
have another folded and tucked away
cause I am and believe that most,
are still proud of that Ragged Old Flag