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It was on one fine March morning when I bid New Orleans adieu. |
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And I was on the road to Jackson town, my fortunes to renew. |
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I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain, |
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Which filled my heart with longin' for the Lakes of Pontchartain. |
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I sat on board a railway car beneath the morning sun |
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And I rode the rails 'til evening when I laid me down again. |
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All strangers there, no friends to me 'til a dark girl towards me came |
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And I fell in love with a Creole girl on the Lakes of Pontchartrain. |
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I said, "My pretty Creole girl, my money here's no good. |
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If it weren't for the alligators I would sleep out in the woods." |
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"You're welcome here kind stranger. Our house is very plain. |
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But we never turn a stranger out on the Lakes of Pontchartrain." |
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She took me out to her mama's house and treated me right well. |
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The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell. |
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To try to paint her beauty I'm sure would be in vain. |
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So handsome was my Creole girl on the Lakes of Pontchartrain. |
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I asked her would she marry me. And she said it never would be. |
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For she had got another and he was off at sea. |
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She said that she would wait for him and faithful she'd remain |
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Waiting for her sailor on the Lakes of Pontchartrain. |
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So fair thee well my bonny old girl. I may never see you no more. |
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I won't forget your kindness in that cottage by the shore. |
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And at every social gathering a golden glass I'll drain. |
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And I'll drink all health to the Creole girl on the Lakes of Pontchartrain. |