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