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Song for the Election Day.

Were goin' to make a President,
We want you all to come,
There's bound to be a mighty fuss,
And lots and gobs of fun:
We're not agoing to electioneer,
Or lead you off the track,
But merely hint about a man
They sometimes call Old Zack.
Walk up, walk up,
And try to make it handy,
Just before you drop your vote,
To think of Rio Grande.

You'll find some fellows over there,
A folding up their tickets,
They're mostly men with heads swelled up
As if they had the rickets:
They've run a man whose name is Cass,
And they'll want to call you back,
But we've a few despatches here,
To send to General Zack.
Walk up, walk up,
Walk up before us,
And when, you go to drop your vote
Just think of Matamoros.

They'll likely try to spin a yarn
About a broken sword,
And how their General got so mad,
When Hull the army floored
We wont deny what they may say,
About their brave defender,
But we've a chap in our crowd
Who never can surrender.
Walk up, walk up,
And don't you go to halt O,
And when about to drop your vote,
Just think of Palo Alto.

We're not again to puff our man,
Or talk about his virtue,
We merely brushed your memory up,
Because it could'nt hurt you
Them other chaps are up to all
The talking and the writing,
But we've a man in our mess
That mostly does the fighting.
So walk up, walk up,
Walk up once again,
And think before you, drop your vote,
Of Buena Vista's plain.