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Let us close our game
of poker, take our tin cups in our hand
As we all stand by
the cook’s tent door
As dried monies of
hard crackers are handed to each man.
O, hard tack, come
again no more!
CHORUS:
‘Tis the
song, the sigh of the hungry:
“Hard tack,
hard tack, come again no more.”
Many days you have
lingered and made our stomachs sore.
O, hard tack, come
again no more!
‘Tis a
hungry, thirsty soldier who wears his life away
In torn
clothes—his better days are o’er.
And he’s
sighing now for whiskey in a voice as dry as hay,
“O, hard
tack, come again no more!”
CHORUS
‘Tis the
wail that is heard in camp both night and day,
‘Tis the
murmur that’s mingled with each snore.
‘Tis the
sighing of the soul for spring chickens far away,
“O, hard
tack, come again no more!”
CHORUS
But to all these
cries and murmurs, there comes a sudden hush
As frail forms are
fainting by the door,
For they feed us now
on horse feed that the cooks call mush!
O, hard tack, come
again once more!
FINAL CHORUS:
‘Tis the
dying wail of the starving:
“O, hard
tack, hard tack, come again once more!”
You were old and very
wormy, but we pass your failings o’er.
O, hard tack, come
again once more!
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