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Dear old Matagorda,
Matagorda by the
sea,
The dearest of all
the towns
In the state to me.
It was built up in
the days
Of long, long ago,
But still it listens
good,
No matter who we
know.
We go from Matagorda
On over to the beach
Where the waves roll
in high,
And the pretty
shells do bleach.
Straight on to the
gulf
To take a dip in
brine,
And once you try
this sport,
You'll feel it will
be thine.
Some like the river,
And some like the
bay;
Others like to sit
in town
For to whittle the
steps away.
You may travel over
the world
And sail across the
water,
But you'll never
find a place
Like dear old Matagorda.
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It is a very small town,
Which we all say is
true,
But no matter where
you come from
There's a welcome
here for you.
Whether from North
America,
Or some far-off
nation,
Just come to
Matagorda,
And you'll find
accommodation.
We fish all through
the summer,
And in the winter
hunt we do,
Now just come to see
us once,
'Cause there's a
sport here for you.
Go down to the river
And take a drink of
water.
Once you've done
this deed
You will return to
Matagorda.
She sits up on a
hill
Close down by the
bay.
And I'll speak for
her right now,
It's a fine old
place to stay.
We have traveled
over the world,
To the mountains up
so high,
But in dear old
Matagorda
We hope to live and
die.
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