The Old Settler's Song

I’ve traveled all over this country
Prospectin' and diggin' for gold
I’ve tunneled, hydraulic-ed, and cradled
And I have been frequently sold
And I have been frequently so-o-old
And I have been frequently sold
I’ve tunneled, hydraulic-ed, and cradled
And I have been frequently sold
For each man who got rich by mining
Perceiving that hundreds grew poor
I made up my mind to try farming:
The only pursuit that was sure
So rollin' my grub in my blanket
I left all my tools on the ground
I started one mornin' to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound
For the country they call Puget So-o-ound
For the country they call Puget Sound
I started one mornin' to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound
Arriving flat broke in midwinter
I found it enveloped with fog
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hair on the back of a dog
As I looked at the prospects so gloomy
The tears trickled over my face
And I thought that my travels had brought me
To the end of the jumpin' off place
To the end of the jumpin' off pla-a-ace
To the end of the jumpin' off place
I thought that my travels had brought me
To the end of the jumpin' off place
But now as I look all around me
Observing the world and its shams
I think of my happy condition
Surrounded by acres of clams
Surrounded by acres of cla-a-ams
Surrounded by acres of clams
I think of my happy condition
Surrounded by acres of clams
Surrounded by acres of clams
By acres of clams