Traditional

It was one fine March morning I bid New Orleans adieu,
And I took the road to Jackson town, me fortune to renew.
I cursed all foreign money, no credit could I gain,
Which filled me heart with longing for the lakes of Pontchartrain.

I stepped on board a railroad car, beneath the morning sun.
I rode the rods till evening, then laid me down again.
All strangers there, no friends to me, till a dark girl towards me came,
And I fell in love with the creole girl, by the lakes of Pontchartrain.

I said, "Me pretty Creole girl, me money here's no good.
If it weren't for the alligators, I'd sleep out in the wood."
"You're welcome here, kind stranger -- our house is very plain,
But we never turn the stranger out, by the lakes of Pontchartrain."

She took me into her mammy's house and treated me right well.
The hair upon her shoulders in jet black ringlets fell.
To try to paint her beauty I'm sure 'twould be in vain.
So handsome was my Creole girl by the lakes of Pontchartrain.

I asked her if she'd marry me, she said that it ne'er could be,
For she had got a lover, and he was far at sea.
She said that she would for him, and true she would remain,
Till he'd return to his Creole girl, by the lakes of Pontchartrain.

So fair thee well me bonny old girl, I never may see you more.
I'll ne'er forget your kindness in the cottage by the shore,
And at each social gathering, a flowing glass I'll drain,
And I'll drink a health to my Creole girl, by the lakes of Pontchartrain.