And never was and how a man is nothing.
But in the dark I said: "Oh, Lord, I'm me!"
And then New Orleans, and the time came on.
R.P.W.:
So that is true? - the tale the riflemen
Brought back and told the homefolks and recorded
When they had finished that big turkey-shoot
With Andy Jackson at the cotton bales?
RIFLEMAN :
Yeah, every bastard got a turkey thar!
It wasn't like a turkey-shoot back home
At forty paces, and the turkey's head
Shore ain't no barn-door when it bobs up quick
Behind the log and then is down agin,
And that split-second
is
yore only chance
To plug yore pellet whar the eye's done been.
Yeah, this was different, Andy give the party,
And any fool could git a turkey here,
And women-folks or brats mought done as well,
With every turkey-gobbler six feet tall
And gobblin slow and footin on the green,
A-walkin at you, red and puffed with gobblin,
With drums a-gobblin too, to set the time,
And nary a log to duck the head behind.
ISHAM:
Dum fools, dum fools-to see 'em march so pretty,
With red clothes shining like a wedding was,
Just marching at you like they never cared
You aimed to kill 'em and to leave 'em lay.
They marched so pretty, that's what made you mad,
To
be
so brave, like all you did was nought,
And any dying you could give was nothing,
They'd spit on it, and you, and keep on marching.
It made you mad because you knew down deep
How scared you'd be
if
you was marching there.
It made you mad, ,and so you'd lay your aim
On one, and take the fool, and load your Betsy.
Just take it easy, count your powder right.
Then we were yelling at the cotton bales.
I jumped up high and waved my cap and yelled.
