The Old Settler´s Song

I've travelled all over this country.
Prospecting and digging for gold.
I've tunneled, hydraulicked, and cradled.
And I have been frequently sold.

And I have been frequently sold.
And I have been frequently sold.
I've tunneled, hydraulicked, and cradled.
And I have been frequently sold.

To those who get richer by mining.
Perceiving that hundreds grow poor.
I made up my mind to try farming.
The only pursuit that was sure.
So rolling my grub in my blanket.
I left all my tools on the ground.
I started one morning to shank it.
For the country they call Puget Sound.

For the country they call Puget Sound.
For the country they call Puget Sound.
I started one morning to shank it.
For the country they call Puget Sound.

Arriving flat broken midwinter.
I found it enveloped in fog.
And covered all over with timber.
Thick as hair on the back of a dog.
When I looked on the prospects so gloomy.
The smile went away from my face.
And I thought that my travels had brought me.
To the end of the jumping-off place.

To the end of the jumping-off place.
To the end of the jumping-off place.
And I thought that my travels had brought me.
To the end of the jumping-off place.

But now as I look all around me.
Observing the place where I am.
As I think of my pleasant conditions.
Surrounded by Acres of Clams.

Surrounded by Acres of Clams.
Surrounded by Acres of Clams.
As I think of my pleasant contions.
Surrounded by Acres of Clams.