Tammany

A popular song from 1905
Words by Vincent Bryan
Music by Gus Edwards

The sheet music:

Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:

Lyrics

Hiawatha was an Indian, so was Navajo,
Paleface organ-grinders killed them many moons ago;
But there is a band of Indians that will never die,
When they’re at the Indian Club, this is their battle cry

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany
Big Chief sits in his tepee
Cheering braves to victory
Tammany, Tammany
Swamp ’em swamp ’em, get the “wampum,”
Tammany

On the island of Manhattan by the bitter sea,
Lived this tribe of noble Red Men, tribe of Tammany
From the Totem of the Greenlight
Wampum they would bring,
When their big Chief Man Behind,
Would pass the pipe and sing:

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany
Stick together at the poll
You’ll have long green wampum rolls.
Tammany, Tammany
Politicians get positions, Tammany

Chris Columbo sailed from Spain
Across the deep blue sea,
Brought along the Dago vote to beat out Tammy.
Tammany found Columbo’s crew were living on a boat,
Big Chief said: “They’re floaters,”
And he would not let them vote,
The to the tribe he wrote:

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany,
Get those Dagoes jobs at once
They can vote in twelve more months.
Tammany, Tammany,
Make those floaters Tammany voters
Tammany

Fifteen thousand Irishment from Erin came across,
Tammany put these Irish Indians on the Police force.
I asked one cop, if he wanted three potatoes or four,
He said, “Keep your old platoons, I’ve got a cuspidor
What would I want with more?”

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany,
Your policeman can’t be beat
They can sleep on any street.
Tammany, Tammany,
Dusk is creeping, they’re all sleeping
Tammany.

When Reformers think its time to show activity,
They blame everything that’s bad on poor old Tammany.
All the farmers think that Tammy, caused old Adam’s fall,
They say when a bad man dies he goes to Tammany Hall
Tammany’s blamed for all.

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany,
When a farmer’s tax is due
He puts all the blame on you.
Tammany, Tammany,
On the level you’re a devil, Tammany.

Doctor Osler says all men of sixty we should kill,
That would give olde Tammany a lot of jobs to fill,
They would chloroform old Doctory Parkhurst first I know
After that they’d fix Tom Platt, because they love him so
And then Depew would go.

Chorus
Tammany, Tammany,
When you chloroform to kill
Don’t forget old Dave. B. Hill.
Tammany, Tammany,
Rope’em Rope’em, and we’ll dope’em, Tammany.

If we’d let the women vote, they would all get rich soon,
Think how old man Platt gave all his money to a con.
Mrs. chadwick is a girl, who’d lead in politics,
She could show our politicians lots of little tricks
The Wall street vote she’d fix.