| General Custer told me
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| We were going for a ride
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| Over by the Big Horn river
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| Where the water is deep and wide
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| Soon as I get my hair done
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| He said, «We will win the war
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| Go on out and tell the boys
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| What they are fighting for»
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| And he said, «A-give somebody a medal
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| Give somebody a three-day pass
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| Tell 'em 'bout a light at the end of the tunnel
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| And tell 'em to hold their sass
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| And pass me my lookin' glass»
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| Out in the buffalo moonlight
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| I thought I heard a bird
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| One old Indian fighter went pale
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| Said, «What was that I heard
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| Sixteen thousand nightingales
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| Stomping through the pass
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| Tell that idiot matinee fool
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| To get us out and fast»
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| And he yelled, «A-give somebody a medal
|
| Give somebody a three-day pass
|
| Tell 'em 'bout a light at the end of the tunnel
|
| And tell 'em to hold their sass
|
| And pass me my lookin' glass»
|
| Dawn come up like taxes
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| And what d’you suppose I see
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| Every Indian in history
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| Tapping his toes at me
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| Things was lookin' shaky
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| Some of them boys was large
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| And what do you suppose old Custer done
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| You know, he hollered, «Charge!»
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| Nobody told the Indians
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| Who old Custer was
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| They commenced to stick to us
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| Like peaches stick to fuzz
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| Nobody told the Indians
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| They was supposed to run
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| And just as they did Custer in
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| What do you suppose he done
|
| He hollered, «Give somebody a medal
|
| A-give somebody a three-day pass
|
| Tell 'em 'bout light at the end of the tunnel
|
| And tell 'em to hold their sass
|
| And pass me my lookin' glass» |