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American Ballads and Folk Songs
They picked up their guns and went to the brash, By damn! Joe, here's the hog sign fraish.
One took a tree and it's one took a log, Damn my soul if it ain't a groun' hog!
Git away, Sam, and le' me load my gun, The groun' hog hunt has jist begun.
He's in here, boys, the hole's wore slickj Run here, Sam, with yer forked stick!
Git down, Sam, and in there peep, Fer I think I see him sound asleep.
Stand back, boys, and le's be wise, Fer I think I see his beaded eyes.
Hold them dogs, boys, don't let 'em howl, I thought I heerd the groun' hog growl.
Hello, Johnnie, cut a long pole,
To roust this groun' hog out of his hole.
Up jumped Sam with a ten-foot pole, He roused it in that groun' hog's hole.
Work, boys, work jist as hard as ye can tear, The meat'll do to eat and the hide'll do to wear.
Work, boys, work for all you earn,
Skin 'im atter dark and tan 'im in a churn.
Stand back, boys, le' me git my breath, Ketchin' this groun' hog's might' nigh death.
I heerd 'im give a whistle and a wail, I've wound my stick right in his tail.
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