Well, in eighteen-fourteen we took a little trip
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Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip
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We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
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And we caught the bloody British at the town of New Orleans.
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[Chorus]
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We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
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There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
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We fired once more and they all began a-runnin'
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Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
|
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Well we eye-balled the river and we see the Limeys come
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Musta been a hunnert of 'em beatin' on a drum
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And then they stepped so high and they made the bugles ring
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We hid behind our cotton bales and didn't say a thing
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[Chorus]
|
We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
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There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
|
We fired once more and they all began a-runnin'
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Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
|
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Now, Old Hickory says we can take 'em by surprise
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If we don't shoot our wads 'til we look 'em in the eyes
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So we held off our fire 'til we see them real well
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Then we opened up our squirrel guns and really gave 'em hell
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[Chorus]
|
We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
|
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
|
We fired once more and they all began a-runnin'
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Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
|
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[The chorus (the singers) sings this verse.]
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Well, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
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And they ran through the bushes where the rabbits couldn't go
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Ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em
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Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.
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|
[Back to C.W.]
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Well, we fired our cannon 'til the barrel melted down
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So we grabbed an alligator and we turned his tail around
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We stuffed his head with cannon balls and powdered his behind
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And when we lit the fuse that old gator blew his mind
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|
[Chorus]
|
We fired our guns and the British kept a-comin'
|
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
|
We fired once more and they all began a-runnin'
|
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico
|
|
[The chorus (the singers) sings this verse.]
|
Well, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
|
And they ran through the bushes where the rabbits couldn't go
|
Ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em
|
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.
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[Okay, the singing's over.]
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Hup, hip, trip, four.
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You know, you old boys gonna be marchin' right smart, onced* you learn to count to four.
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-----------------
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The Battle of New Orleans
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C.W. McCall |