Standing on his country’s cause,
So noble and so brave,
’Till a shot came from the gamecocks,
That laid him in his grave.
I die, I die, he nobly cried,
But in a glorious cause,
In exercise my freedom rights,
My country and its loss.
Revenge, revenge, Bill Turner,
Your blood it is now claimed,
’Twas by them dreadful gamecocks,
That you poor Bill was slained.
Your name will he a motto,
As long as we do stand,
And we’ll remember you poor Bill,
One of the Roses Band.
Remember boys remember boys,
It is all I have to say,
Remember boys it soon will be our day.
We are the saucy gamecocks,
And that is well you know,
We are all the way from old Bank street,
With knives and pistols too.
The gamecocks they are little,
They carry a little crew,
They stand in the way,
Of every thing and whip the Roses too.
When the alarm of fire was given,
The Vigilant rung her bell,
Here comes the Roses down the street,
But the gamecocks whipped them well.
When we go out to old Snake hill,
The stones they will fly,
We’ll drink a health to the staylates,
Likewise to the old Bull’s Eye.
We can whip the skinners,
And back the Roses out,
And the swamper boys,
Are no account, while the gamecocks is about.
Did you ever meet in old Bank street,
With plumes and Banners gay,
When the kittle for the kittle drum,
Fight game away.
Our muskets were of ceder wood,
With ramrod bright and new,
With the bayonet for ever set,
And painted barrel too.
We charged upon the red rose boys,
And put them all to flight,
Except their cowardly captain,
That thought to show a fight.
They marched Canal to Bank street,
Stood by a brick wall,
But they did not stand five minutes,
When they found it was gamecocks’ hall.
They arrested W. Adam Sherry,
And likewise gallant Quinn,
They had no proof to sentence them,
They were all discharged again.