Johnson , Song Publisher, 7 N. 10th Street, Phila.
Oh! kind folks listen to my song, it is no idle story,
It’s all about a volunteer who’s going’ to fight for glory;
Now don’t you think that I am right, for I am nothin’ shorter,
And I belong to the Fire-Zou-Zous, and don’t you think I oughter,
We’re goin’ down to Washington to fight for Abraham’s daughter.
Oh! should you ask me who she am, Columbia is her name, sir,
She is the child of Abraham, or Uncle Sam, the same, sir,
Now if I fight, why aint I right, and don’t you think I oughter;
The volunteers are pouring in from every loyal quarter,
And I’m goin’ ‘long to Washington, to fight for Abraham’s daughter.
They say we have no officers, but ah! they are mistaken;
And soon you’ll see the Rebels run, with all the fuss they’re makin’;
For there is one who just sprung up, he’ll show the foe no quarter,
(Meade is the man I mean,) you know he hadn’t oughter,
For he’s gone down to Washington, to fight for Abraham’s daughter.
We’ll have a spree with Johnny Bull, perhaps, some day or other,
And won’t he have his fingers full, if not a deal of bother;
For Yankee boys are just the lads upon the land and water,
And won’t we have a “bully” fight, and don’t you think we oughter,
If he is caught at any time insulting Abraham’s daughter.
But let us lay all jokes aside, it is a sorry question;
The man who would these States divide, should hang for his suggestion.
One Country and one flag, I say whoe’er the war may slaughter,
So I’m going as a Fire Zon-a, and don’t you think I oughter,
I’m going down to Washington, to fight for Abraham’s daughter.
See Prof. Brooks’ Ball Room Monitor. This little Book will give you more Instruction in Dancing than any book ever Published. Price of it is only 15 cents, sold by J. H. JOHNSON No. 7 North 10th Street, Philadelphia.