| 'Tis old Stonewall the rebel that leans on his sword
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| And while we we are mounting prays low to the Lord
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| Now each cavalier who lover honor and right
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| Let him follow the feather of Stuart tonight
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| Come tighten your girth and slacken your reigns
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| Come buckle your blanket and holster again
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| By the click of the trigger and balance your blade
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| For he must ride sure that goes riding a raid
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| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
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| Tighten your girth, slacken your reigns
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
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| Buckle your blanket and holster again
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| Then gallop, now gallop to swim or to ford
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| Old Stonewalls still watching, prays low to the Lord
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| Goodbye dear old rebel, the rivers not wide
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| And Maryland’s lights in her window to guide
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| Come tighten your girth and slacken your reigns
|
| Come buckle your blanket and holster again
|
| By the click of the trigger and balance your blade
|
| For he must ride sure that goes riding a raid
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
|
| Tighten your girth, slacken your reigns
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
|
| Buckle your blanket and holster again
|
| Then gallop, then gallop by rivers and rocks
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| Who’d bar us the way take his toll in hard knocks
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| With these points of steel on the line of Penn
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| We’ve made some fine strokes and we’ll make them again
|
| Come tighten your girth and slacken your reigns
|
| Come buckle your blanket and holster again
|
| By the click of the trigger and balance your blade
|
| For he must ride sure that goes riding a raid
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
|
| Tighten your girth, slacken your reigns
|
| Galloping, galloping, galloping, galloping
|
| Buckle your blanket and holster again
|
| Riding, riding, riding, riding, riding, riding the raid |