C Em F C C G C 'Twas on a bright March morning I bid New Orleans adieu. C Em F C C F ) I took the train from Jackson, my fortune to renew, C Em F C F ) I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain, C Em F C G C Which sent my heart a-longing for the lakes of Pontchartrain. C . . Em . . F . . C . . C . . G . . C . . . . .
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