Old John Cotton is bringing up the rear He ain't got no business here He's a liar and a cheat And an old worn-out deadbeat You're a lying, horrid Louisiana man Old John's dropping in his rocking chair out front Old corn jug by his side A rusty .44 hangs nailed behind the door He's got an old suit feathered and a custis yellow stripe John, John, yes, the tales that you tell I've heard them before, but, oh, well, I will hear them again And I think, well, oh, well Old John, the on-spinner that you are Come on, tell us an Indian story Tell it once again, but tell it like it should be said You're a chicken, horrid Louisiana man Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Old John, John, yes, the tales that you tell I've heard them before, but, oh, well, I will hear them again And I think, well, oh, well Old John, the on-spinner that you are Come on, tell us an Indian story Tell it once again, but tell it like it should be said You're a chicken, horrid Louisiana man Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Old John, the on-spinner that you are Come on, tell us an Indian story Tell it once again, but tell it like it should be said You're a chicken, horrid Louisiana man Do, do, do, do, do Do, do, do, do, do Old John, the on-spinner that you are Come on, tell us an Indian story