Oh call us hard names, call us mere tools
In the hands of the North, to be made such fools,
To watch night and day, with fear and fright,
At a heap of old sand banks mounted with pipe!
Oh call us hard names, we deserve it all,
For our glorious pluck and its sudden fall,
Those ponderous cannon shining and bright,
Turned out to be pieces of old stove pipe!
Oh call us hard names of the Linconite stripe,
Let the names prove as hard as rusty old pipe,
Because we were fooled by a Southern band,
Who kept us at bay with a mountain of sand!
Oh call us hard names, call them out o our face,
To cut and to grind us with shame and disgrace;
The world will all laugh at this elegant joke,
The army kept off by sand banks and smoke!