The "CHEROKEES" is our name, We ask for neither wealth nor fame, But "Freedom" shall our motto be, And we'll shout "DEATH or LIBERTY!" Our Captain, JOE, you all well know, He's not the man that has said "Go!" But he has said "Come on, Boys!" We'll go and stop that Yankee noise. Lieutenant JIM, he's tall and slim, But we well know he's not a whim, He'll lead us on to victory; May I be there that sight to see! All of the crew I think will do, Each Cherokee Boy will prove true blue, They're Cherokee boys, and that's enough, Each one will say, "lay on, McDuff!" "Freedom or Death," our song shall be, From land to land, from sea to sea, And when you hear from us again, You'll hear of lots of Yankees slain. Walk in the ranks, you Cherokee Boys, Come, go with us and share our joys; A jolly crowd will be with you, Then, to the rest, we bid adieu.
At Camp Jones, we in our tents be, As fine a crowd as you can see, A pretty girl has said as much, That, in her life, she's seen none such. The people of the Huntsville town, Shall in the world have great renown; They to the soldiers have been kind, As any people you can find. The ladies -- bless their little souls -- Amongst us take their evening strolls; They bring us cakes and pretty flowers, To while away the lonesome hours. The ladies, all, are kind to me, But there is one in Cherokee, With whom I did so lately part, That lies much nearer to my heart.
J. B. High; Capt. Cunningham's Co.
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