The Thompson Street Cadets.
Copyright, 1896, by K. T. Paull.
Words and Music by Charles Shackford.
'Twas a gala day in Buck-town, And ev'ry gallus nig
Who had helped to swell that colored population
Was enrolled as active member, by their leader proud and big
Of the Thompson Street Cadets, to guard the nation;
Every coon was full of ginger when they made their first parade,
And the Captain thundered out his first command:
Spoken-Right face, forward march!
Did you ever see a nigger who was feelin, any bigger
Than the leader of the Thompson Street Cadets;
He can change a silver dollar, but he cannot change his Color,
This leader of the Thompson Street Cadets.
Ev'ry heart was wildly beating to the music of the band,
Every wench's mi' was fastened on that leader;
Ev'ry coon in line got jealous, 'cause he was not in command,
And they all produced a razor or cleaver.
Now the Captain saw his danger, but he never turned a hair,
Only thundered out his terrible command,
Spoken -Brigade, halt! Ground arms.-Chorus.