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Parody on "The Gallant Old Backwoodsman."


Song performed by: Dean Potter (vocals) and Tara Dirst (banjo). Recording engineer: Matt Dotson.

Tune -- "The Fine Old English Gentleman."

I'll sing you another Whig song, made to an ancient rhyme,
Of a Loco-foco leader, one of the modern time;
A man who never cared a jot for public fraud or crime,
But in craft and treachery and plot had passed his manhood's prime,
For he was a true Loco-foco,
One of the modern time.

In youth he was a lawyer shrewd, and loved the courthouse bell,
For a rich and juicy law-suit no hound had better smell;
If two fools fought for an oyster, he settled it right well;
For he ate the oyster up himself, and gave to each a shell
For he was an honest Loco-foco man,
One of the modern time.

This Loco-foco did a band of Swartwouters enrol,
Men who for bread and butter good, would sell their very soul,
And then he managed by his arts, great Jackson to control,
And climbed aloft upon his fame, like a monkey on a pole
For he was a Loco-foco partizan,
One of the modern time.

And when at last as President, his party cried -- all hail!
At our good old constitution he then began to rail,
Like to a hungry rat, he did the nation's purse assail,
And eat so far into the bank, you could only see his tail;
For he was a Loco-foco partizan,
One of the modern time.


His house so white was carpeted, and filled with belles and beaux,
And there his lordship sat in state, in broadcloth and silk hose,
In sunny peace no man so brave, but when black war arose,
He got himself behind a stump, to warm his frozen toes
For he was a Loco-foco partizan,
One of the modern time.

But now, poor man, he's getting sick, he knows his time is nigh,
In vain he swallows "mint drops," in vain his doctors try;
His hand and feet are turning cold, the film is on his eye,
And on the "Fourth of March" next year he certainly will die.
For he is a Loco-foco President,
A man of modern time.