The Battle of New Orleans
'Twas on the eighth of January, just at the dawn of day;
We spied those British officers all dress'd in battle array.
Old Jackson then gave orders, "Each man to keep his post,
And form a line from right to left and let no time be lost."
With rockets and with bombshells, like comets we let fly;
Like lions they advanced us, the fate of war to try;
Large streams of fiery vengeance upon them we let pour,
While many a brave commander lay withering in his gore.
Thrice they marched up to the charge, and thrice they gave the ground
We fought them full three hours, then bugle horns did sound
Great heaps of human pyramids lay strewn before our eyes;
We blew the horns and rang the bells to drown their dying cries.
Come all you British noblemen and listen unto me;
Our Frontiersman has proved to you America is free.
But tell your royal master when you return back home,
That out of thirty thousand men, but few of you returned.
From The American History Songbook, Silverman