(Chorus) When Dickinson raised his pistol to meet mine, I fired—I did not wait. I drove the ball through him— DROPPING HIM DOWN. (Verse 1) I measured the ground, then closed it at twenty-four feet, Watched that marksman lift his arm, already had my aim. He fired first—the lead struck near my heart, I stood fast, hand over the wound, Cock’d again and put the ball into him— DROPPING HIM DOWN. No affair of honor is left unfinished. I took the shot Dickinson meant for me. I put mine where no surgeon of the day could save him. He fell while I still stood. The ground took him. (Chorus) I stand when the moment is given, I stand until the matter is settled. The wound is no command to yield, Nor the enemy’s fire a reason to bend. I occupy the ground they thought was mine— DROPPING HIM DOWN. (Verse 2) I matched his haste only long enough to break it. When that poltroon raised his weapon, I kept my nerve and held my ground. Lead does not debate— It carries the man with it. Powder does not hesitate— It does its work while I keep my feet. I stood with the body of the rock, Immovable beneath the morning sky. “If he had shot me through the brain, sir, I should still have killed him.” I took the wound, I took the breath, I took the measure of the man— And answered him in kind. DROPPING HIM DOWN. (Bridge) Keep your courage when the fire comes near, Keep your footing when the wound runs warm. Let no poltroon mistake your pain for fear, Nor your silence for surrender. Stand fast when the hour is upon you. Do not be hurried by a loud man. Do not be shaken by a hard blow. Hold your ground. Keep your honor. Let your adversary spend his strength in haste— And you remain. The affair is not settled by fear, Nor ended by the first wound. A man may be struck and still stand. A man may bleed and still have his purpose. So stand firm. Keep your nerve. Give no ground to intimidation. And when the matter is finished— LET IT BE FINISHED. (Chorus) When Dickinson raised his pistol to meet mine, I fired—I did not remain in the exchange. I took his fire and still stood upright. I put lead through flesh, bone, and intention— DROPPING HIM DOWN. (Outro) If any man raises his weapon or his tongue against me or mine, That is the moment I take the field. One purpose. One resolve. No trembling hand, no backward step. I have let Dickinson shoot first. I have carried his ball these many years. I carried the wound, I carried the memory, And I carried the affair to its conclusion. The ground remembers the man who stood upon it. The dead need no further answer. DROPPING THEM DOWN. I regret only that I did not shoot Henry Clay, And that I did not hang John C. Calhoun.
