Sittin' by the roadside on a summer's day,
Chattin' with my messmates, passing time away,
Lying in the shadow, underneath the trees,
Goodness, how delicious, eating goober peas!
When a horseman passes, us soldiers have a rule
To cry out at our loudest "Mister, here's your mule!"
But another pleasure enchantinger than these
Is wearing out your grinders, eating goober peas!
Just before the battle, the Gen'ral hears a row,
He says "The Yanks are coming, I hear their rifles now"!
He turns around in wonder, and what do you think he sees?
The Georgia Militia -- eating goober peas!
I think my song has lasted almost long enough,
The subject's interesting, but rhymes are mighty rough!
When this war was over, and we’re free from rags and fleas,
We'll kiss our wives and sweethearts and gobble goober peas!
