Election Songs

Air: John Anderson, My Jo

O, Matty Van, my Jo, Mat! I wonder what you mean,
By such a naughty act as that which lately has been seen?
What want you with an army, Mat? Ah, why do you do
so?
'Twill march you back to Kinderhook! Oh, Matty Van,
my Jo.

Oh, Van Buren, my Jo, Van, you've climb'd the hill o'
- State,
And monie a cunnin' trick, man, was fathered in your
pate;
But now your tottering down, Van; how rapidly you go,
You'll soon be sprawling at the fit; oh, Matty Van, my
Jo.

Oh, Matty Van, my Jo, Mat, when first we were acquaint,
'Tis true you were not slow, Mat, with sinner or with
saint;
But now you have grown ould, Mat, you never seem to
know
How fast you're goin' "bock agen," Oh, Matty Van, my Jo

.
Oh, Van Buren, my Jo, Van, when Jackson ruled the hour,
And took you up behind him, Van, and left you with his
power,
You promised us to follow in his footsteps, as you know,
And pit your fit in hero's tracks, Oh, Van Buren, my Jo.

Oh, Matty Van, my Jo, Mat, his faith you did abuse,
For it's not in your nature, Mat, to wear a hero's shoes;
So step you just aside, Mat, Old Tip is on your toe,
Old Tip, a hero ready made; Oh, Matty Van, my Jo.