Battle Hymn of the Republic

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;

He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.

He has loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;

His truth is marching on!

Glory, glory, hallelujah!

His truth is marching on.

Dixie

I wish I was in the land of cotton;

Old times there are not forgotten.

Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixieland.

In Dixieland where I was born in

Early on one frosty mornin’

Look away! Look away! Look away, Dixieland.

Then I wish I was in Dixie

Hooray! Hooray!

In Dixieland I’ll take my stand

To live and die in Dixie.

Away, away, away down south in Dixie!

Goober Peas

Sitting by the roadside on a summer day,

Chatting with my messmates, passing time away.

Lying in the shadow underneath the trees;

Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas!

Chorus

Peas! Peas! Peas! Peas!

Eating goober peas!

Goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas!

When a horseman passes, the soldiers have a rule

To cry out at their loudest, “Mister, here’s your mule!”

But another pleasure, enchantinger than these

Is wearing out your grinders eating goober peas!

Chorus

Just before the battle, the gen’ral hears a row,

He says, “The Yanks are coming; I hear their rifles now.”

He turns around in wonder, and what ‘ya think he sees?

The Tennessee Militia eating goober peas!

Chorus

I think my song has lasted almost long enough,

The subject’s interesting, but rhymes are mighty rough.

I wish this war was over, when free from rags and fleas,

We’d kiss our wives and sweethearts and gobble goober peas!

Chorus

The Erie Canal

I got a mule, her name is Sal;

Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.

She’s a good old worker and a good old pal;

Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal.

We’ve hauled some barges in our day,

Filled with lumber, coal, and hay,

And we know every inch of the way

From Albany to Buffalo.

Low bridge, everybody down!

Low bridge, ‘cause we’re comin’ to a town.

And you’ll always know you’re neighbor,

You’ll always know your pal,

If you’ve ever navigated on the Erie Canal.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home

When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah, Hurrah.

We’ll give him a mighty welcome then, Hurrah, Hurrah.

The men will cheer, the boys will shout.

The ladies, they will all turn out.

And we’ll all feel glad when Johnny comes marching home.

Get ready for the Jubilee, Hurrah, Hurrah.

We’ll give the hero three times three, Hurrah, Hurrah.

The laurel wreath is ready now

To place upon his loyal brow.

And we’ll all feel glad when Johnny comes marching home.