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[C]I've travelled all over this country,
Prospecting and digging for [F]gold.
I've [C]tunneled, hydraulic'd and cradled,
And I have been [G7]frequently [C]sold.
{c:Chorus:}
And [C]I have been frequently sold,
And I have been frequently [F]sold.
I've [C]tunneled, hydraulic'd and cradled,
And I have been [G7]frequently [C]sold.
For one that get riches by mining,
Perceiving that hundreds grow poor,
I made up my mind to try farming,
The only pursuit that is sure.
{c:Chorus.}
So rolling my grub in my blanket,
I left all my tools on the ground,
I started one morning to shank it,
For a country they call Puget Sound.
{c:Chorus.}
Arriving flat broke in mid winter,
I found it enveloped in fog,
And covered all over with timber,
Thick as hair on the back of a dog.
{c:Chorus.}
I staked out a claim in the forest,
And set myself down to hard toil,
For two years I chopped and I loggered,
But I never got down to the soil.
No longer the slave of ambition,
I laugh at the world and it's shams,
I think of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams.
{c:Chorus.}
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