State Song of Connecticut

State Song of Connecticut

Connecticut State Song is “Yankee Doodle.” Connecticut designated “Yankee Doodle” as the official state song in 1978. The Song “Yankee Doodle” is a well-known American song. The early versions of this Song which date to before the Seven Years’ War and the American Revolution. State Song of Connecticut is often sung patriotically in the United States today and is the State Anthem of Connecticut. The Index number of “Yankee Doodle” Roud Folk Song is 4501.

The melody is thought to be much older than both the lyrics and the subject, which goes back to folk songs of Medieval Europe. The composer of this song is unknown. Some historians believe that the State Song of Connecticut was originally written by an Englishman around 1755, to make fun of the poorly dressed New England soldiers. When the American Revolutionary War began, the American soldiers rewrote some of the words to make fun of the British soldiers. The Connecticut State Song cheered up American soldiers and became a source of pride for them.



“Yankee Doodle”

Yankee Doodle went to town,

Riding on a pony,

Stuck a feather in his hat,

And called it macaroni.


Yankee Doodle keep it up,

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

Mind the music and the step,

And with the folks be handy.


There were many versions and many verses for Yankee Doodle over its long history. Here are familiar lyrics to a longer version:

Father and I went down to camp,

Along with Captain Gooding;

And there we saw the men and boys,

As thick as hasty pudding.

Yankee Doodle, keep it up,

Yankee doodle dandy;

Mind the music and the step,

And with the girls be handy.

There was Captain Washington

Upon a slapping stallion,

A-giving orders to his men,

I guess there was a million.

And then the feathers on his hat,

They looked so’ tarnal fin-a,

I wanted the pocket to get

To give to my Jemima.

And then we saw a swamping gun,

Large as a log of maple;

Upon a deuced little cart,

A load for father’s cattle.

And every time they shoot it off,

It takes a horn of powder;

It makes a noise like father’s gun,

Only a nation louder.

I went as nigh to one myself,

As’ Siah’s underpinning;

And father went as nigh again,

I thought the deuce was in him.

We saw a little barrel, too,

The heads were made of leather;

They knocked upon it with little clubs,

And called the folks together.