| It was on one bright March morning, I bid New Orleans adieu
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| I took the road to Jackson Town, my fortune to renew
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| I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain
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| Which filled my heart with longing for the banks of Ponchartrain
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| I stepped onto a railroad car beneath the morning sun
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| I rode the rods till evening and I laid me down again
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| All strangers here, no friends I found, till a dark girl towards me came
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| I fell in love with a Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain
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| I said, «My pretty Creole girl, my money here’s no good
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| And if it weren’t for the alligators, I would sleep out in the woods»
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| «You're welcome here, kind stranger, our house is very plain
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| And we never turned a stranger out on the banks of Ponchartrain»
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| She took me into her mammy’s house and treated me right well
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| Her hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell
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| To try to paint her beauty, I’m sure it would be in vain
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| So pretty was my Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain
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| I asked her if she’d marry me, she said this could never be
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| For she had got another and he was far at sea
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| She said that she would wait for him and true she would remain
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| Till he returned to his Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain
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| «So fare thee well, my bonny own lass, I’ll never see you no more
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| But I’ll never forget your kindness in this cottage at the shore
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| And at each social gathering, a flowing glass I’ll raise
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| And I’ll drink a health to my Creole girl at the banks of Ponchartrain» |