Andrew Beard Lyrics

Andrew Beard was his name he called Kentucky homeworked
his farm with the wish that he'd be left alone
but the war closed in...it was 1861
and the race was on to shoulder a gun
Andrew Beard held firm...said 'this fight is not mine..
can't tend the farm if I end up dying...
you fight your war...and I'll fight mine
gotta battle my crops..a better use of my time
Both sides would pass through...using his farm to rest
and to water their horses and to thump their war chest
Andrew Beard said 'you'll be welcome again and again
as long as you all behave like men'
In 1862 some Union troops pulled in

stinking of whiskey and homemade distilled gin
One put a gun to his head said 'that's a mighty fine mare'
stole Andrew Beard's horse right then and there
The recruitment posters...the political windbags
the sneers of his neighbors and the tongues that would
wag
never swayed Andrew Beard..who tried not to take sides
but after losing his mare...with the rebels did he ride
There's no moral here...there wasn't many them days
you disrespect a man...you may have to pay
many a union boy was better off before..
Andrew Beard went off to fight his little war
Andrew Beard was his name he called Kentucky home
worked his farm with the wish that he'd be left alone
but the war closed in...it was 1861
and the race was on to shoulder a gun

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