Brothers Four The Old Settler's Song
I've traveled 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 so-o-old,
And I have been frequently sold:
I've tunneled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold!
For one who gained riches by mining,
Perceiving that hundreds grew 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
And started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound —
For the country they call Puget Sou-ou-ound,
For the country they call Puget Sound,
I started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound.
Arriving flat broke in midwinter,
I found the land shrouded in fog
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hairs on the back of a dog —
When I looked on the prospects so gloomy,
The tears trickled over 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 pla-a-ace,
To the end of the jumping-off place:
I thought that my travels had brought me
To the end of the jumping-off place.
I staked me a claim in the forest,
And sat myself down to hard toil:
For six years I chopped and I labored,
But I never got down to the soil —
But I never got down to the soi-oi-oil,
I never got down to the soil:
For six years I chopped and I labored,
But I never got down to the soil!
And now that I'm used to the climate,
I think that if a man ever found
A place to live easy and happy,
That Eden is on Puget Sound —
No longer the slave of ambition,
I laugh at the world and its shams
As I think of my pleasant condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams —
Surrounded by acres of cla-a-ams,
Surrounded by acres of clams,
As I think of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams!
