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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
Lyricist: Bobby Horton
Lyrics:
Butler and I went out from camp at Bethel to make a battle And then the south'rons whupped us back just like a drove of cattle
(CHORUS) Come throw your swords and muskets down; You do not find them handy Although we Yankees cannot fight, At runnin' we're a dandy
And then we got a monster gun Which gives us satisfaction For seven miles are just the space We Yankees lack in action (CHORUS)
Whene'er we go out to fight The south'rons give us lickin's But then we strive to get revenge
By stealin' all their chickens (CHORUS)
Oh, Butler stays in Fort Monroe And listens to the firing, And when his men have met defeat Him then goes out inquirin' (CHORUS)
To say that Butler will not fight Is certainly no scandal For not a trophy has he gained Except an old pump handle (CHORUS)
(CHORUS)
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