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John C. Calhoun, My Jo, John.


TUNE -- "John Anderson my Jo, John."

Song performed by: Chad Sheridan, Leslie Beukelman (vocals) and Tara Dirst (banjo and guitar). Recording engineer: Matt Dotson.

John C. Calhoun, my Jo John,
When first you joined our side,
The whigs were lying low, John,
And we were in our pride.
But now these things are altered,
Old Tip is in the field,
And though 'tis hard to think upon,
I fear that we must yield.

John C. Calhoun, my Jo John,
What are the whigs about?
It really looks as though, John,
They'd turn us Locos out.
The true Democracy's awake,
The false is sinking low,
Come say what course is best to take,
John C. Calhoun, my Jo.

John C. Calhoun, my Jo John,
Buchanan told us all,
That Bedford County'd tell to us,
How the State would go next fall.
But Bedford County's out for Tip,
Dear John, what shall we do,


The whigs have got us on the hip,
And things look monstrous blue.

John C. Calhoun, my Jo John,
Sat restless in his chair,
Then said, "My much-loved President,
No wonder you despair.
The people through the land are up,
And every state and town
Stands with a huge Hard Cider cup,
Your treasury bill to drown."

Then Matty Van looked monstrous pale,
And wilted right away,
As wilts a tender cabbage plant,
Before the sun's warm ray.
They threw cold water in his face,
And oh! he writhed in pain;
Though Duncan made the funniest jokes,
He never smiled again.