One brother wore blue, one brother wore grey
Another wore purple with gold lamé
Two fought each other and died in the war
The other one lived as a Pittsburgh whore
He went by the name of Virginia Lee
In petticoat down by the factory
Where freemen and smithies he'd fondle and kiss
Until they found something was quite amiss
Now beaten and robbed in the anthracite hills
Consoled by his camphor and morphine pills
A doctor of dubious practice was sought
To settle the war that his body fought
A bottle of whisky, a carpenter's saw
And two goodly handfuls of mud and straw
In powder and lace, she is scarred and shut in
She's happier now than he's ever been
One brother wore blue, one brother wore grey
Another wore purple with gold lamé
And if you are drunk and it's dark as can be
You'll spend a fine evening with Virginia Lee