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YANKEE DOODLE.
Och, my she-divil came home from the spree,
Full of whiskey, and ripe from the buryin', sure; And she showed as much mercy to me
As a hungry man shows to a herrin', sure. One Billy-go-fister I gave,
Which caused her to grunt and to grin agin ; In six months I opened the grave
And slapped her on the bones of Finegan.
Whack fie lil Ian, etc.
It's now, that I'm single again,
I'll spind my time rakin' and batterin'; I'll go to the fair wid the men,
And I'll dance wid the girls for a patterin'. They'll swear that I'm stuck to a lee,
And think, as they say, to catch him agin; But they'll not come the kuckle o'ec me,
For they might be related to Finegan.
Whack fie lil Ian, etc, |
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YANKEE DOODLE. Sung by Archy Hughes.
I'm Yankee Doodle, Uncle Sam,
From Freedom's niightj' farm, sir, That for many a thousand years
Has worked unto a charm, sir. But some rogues talk of selling out,
And splitting up this Union; We'll beat their backs red, white, and blue,
Who dare to split our Union!
Chorus. *
Then wake up, every mother's son— Our Union none can sever 1
And swear, by mighty Washington, Our Union, now and ever I" |
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