Old Washington Song
That has made the Vanjanks all look blue,
It has lately been held in Kentucky,
To the honor of Old Tippecanoe.
From the East and the West came in thousands,
And the North and the South pour'd in too,
As if heaven and earth were all moving
In honor of Old Tippecanoe.
There were skiffs, forts, yawls and Log Cabins,
And a beautiful Maysville brig too,
All drawn upon wheels by fine horses--
Hurrah for Old Tippecanoe.
Farm wagons, canoes and stage coaches,
And carriages also a few,
Come up there all fill'd to overflowing
With the sons of Old Tippecanoe.
The air was all filled with bright banners,
Red, white, purple, green and true blue,
With inscriptions and mottoes upon them,
All about our Old Tippecanoe.
There was bread of all sorts in abundence,
And barrels of good pickles a few,
Prepared for the sons of Ohio,
By the friends of Old Tippecanoe.
On Monday the sun shone with splendor
Through on Sunday rains fell and winds blew,
But none of us cared for the weather--
True soldiers of Tippecanoe.
We march'd through the streets of old Washington,
And bravely drank hard cider too,
To show to the silk stocking gentry
How we'd stick to old Tippecanoe.
The ladies they flock'd to their windows,
In numbers, I say not a few,
And held out their star-spangled banners
All to the honor of Tippecanoe.
The Vans call us rag barons and dandies,
And only a ruffle shirt crew,
But they see now the bone and the sinew
All go for Old Tippecanoe.
Here's a long life to the men of Kentucky,
For to them there is honor due,
For their manly and good preparations
For the sons of Old Tippecanoe.