The Gandydancer Poem by James L. A. Huetson

In eighteen and sixty-two Lincoln signed an act to bridge this land with steel.
He told two railroads join in a pact and that road will be built I feel.
So push you Irish push with all your might.
Lay another mile before we quit for the night.
It takes an Irish gandy dancer to drive a mile of steel,
On a jug full of whiskey and spuds for his meal.

In eighteen and sixty-five Lincoln lay dead but the Union Pacific, one of two,
Had Grenville Dodge working as its head with the Casements leading the crew.
So push you Irish push with all your might.
Lay another mile before we quit for the night.
It takes an Irish gandy dancer to drive a mile of steel,
On a jug full of whiskey and spuds for his meal.

Dan and Jack were told get a mile every day and they in their turn vowed,
We won't ease up in any way 'til we beat that Central Pacific Crowd.
So push you Irish push with all your might.
Lay another mile before we quit for the night.
It takes an Irish gandy dancer to drive a mile of steel,
On a jug full of whiskey and spuds for his meal.

The Sioux and the Cheyenne vowed to put a stop to the coming of the iron horse.
They took so many scalps they seemed to be on top but Irish went through in force.
So push you Irish push with all your might.
Lay another mile before we quit for the night.
It takes an Irish gandy dancer to drive a mile of steel,
On a jug full of whiskey and spuds for his meal.

Through blizzards, floods and Indian attacks two railroads laid their lines to meet.
In the last twelve hours eight Irishmen laid track ten miles and fifty-six feet.
So push you Irish push with all your might.
Lay another mile before we quit for the night.
It takes an Irish gandy dancer to drive a mile of steel,
On a jug full of whiskey and spuds for his meal.