Cat. #0900 (MFH #447) - As sung by Jimmy (Driftwood) Morris, Timbo, Arkansas on August 30, 1969
VERSE 1
My name it is Dan Martin
I was raised in Arkansas
Jined up with th rebels
Just t' spite my mother-in-law
T'was on th seventh day of March
In eighteen sixty two
We fought th yankees on Pea Ridge
Till we were black an' blue
CHORUS:
O who's Price a fighting
Somebody I do know
It surely is th fed-er-als
For I hear their cannous roar
Whos' Price a fighting
Somebody I do know
It surely is th fed-er-als
For I hear their cannous roar
VERSE 2
Th yankees gathered 'round us
In th darkness of th night
They planted all their batteries
An' waited till daylight
Earli in th morning
We had to leave th ground
Th bullets an' th cannonballs
Were cuttin' thousands down
VERSE 3
Some took up th left hand road
Some took to their right
McCullock took th straightest course
An' led us int' th fight
Price came dashing down th road
His horse was a sweeping pace
An' when he heard of McCullock's death
Th tears rolled down his face
VERSE 4
Th bullets whistled thru th air
Brave Van Dorr, lost his hat
For about a mile and a half
He laid th bushes flat
Price jumps up an' scattered fence
All this he did not dread
But all that lay upon his mind
Was a little lump of lead
VERSE 5
Price said, boys I never shall
Surrender to th foe
Before I'll bow to Abraham
I'll go to Mexico (an' he did)
I got a bullet in th leg
Another one in my craw
An' I thought I never would get home
T' my dear old mother-in-law