The yanks took our corn, the rebs took our cotton
The bank took our land and the tax got our home
We yoked up our oxen and loaded our wagons
We drove the poor yearlings, we started to roll
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Don't stray far away or you can't hear the bell
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Stay close to the wagons and all will be well
T'was in Alabama we lost our first wagon
We thanked the good Lord that we lost only one
In ole Mississippi we fought the jayhawkers
And in Lou'siana we buried a son
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Don't stray far away or you can't hear the bell
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Stay close to the wagons and all will be well
There's bears in the woods and there's wolves and there's injuns
There's quicksandy holes and there's mountains of stones
Last night a poor yearling strayed too far from camp
And this morning we found just a bundle of bones
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Don't stray far away or you can't hear the bell
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Stay close to the wagons and all will be well
Hoo-ray and hoo-rah, give a big hallelujah
The journey is ending, we're very near thar
Give thanks to the oxen and pray to Jehovah
We'll soon be a-resting beneath the Lone Star
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Don't stray far away or you can't hear the bell
Git along little yearlings, we're-a going to Texas
Stay close to the wagons and all will be well