The Days Of Forty-Nine by Jules Allen Lyrics
[Verse 1]
You're gazing now on old Tom Moore, a relic of bygone days
'Tis a bummer, too, they call me now, but what care I for praise?
"It's oft" says I, in the days gone by
"It's oft" do I repine
For the days of old when we dug out gold
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 2]
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will admit, though they were brave and true
Whatever the pinch they ne'er would flinch
They never would fret nor whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 3]
There's old "Aunt" Jess, that hard old cuss, who never would repent
He never missed a single meal and he never paid a cent
But old "Aunt" Jess like all the rest, at death did he resign
And in his bloom, he went up the flume
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 4]
That Ragshag Jim, that roaring man, could outroar a buffalo, you bet
He'd roar all day and he'd roar all night, and I guess he's roaring yet
One night Jim fell in a prospect hole, 'twas a roaring bad design
And in that hole Jim roared out his soul
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 5]
That Wily Bill, that funny man, who was full of funny tricks
And when he was in a poker game he was always hard as bricks
He'd ante you stud, he'd play you a draw, he'd go you a hatful blind
In a struggle with death, Bill lost his breath
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 6]
There was New York Jake, that butcher boy, who was fond of getting tight
And every time he got on a spree he was spoiling for a fight
One night Jake edged against a knife in the hands of old Doc Stein
And over Jake they held a wake
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 7]
There was Monte Pete, I'll ne'er forget the luck he always had
He would deal for you both day and night as long as he had a scam
It was a pistol shot that lay Pete out, it was his last resign
It caught Pete sure right in the door
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 8]
Of all the comrades that I've had there's none that's left to boast
And I am left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And as I pass from town to town, they call me The Rambling Sign
Since the days of old when we dug out the gold
And the days of Forty-Nine
You're gazing now on old Tom Moore, a relic of bygone days
'Tis a bummer, too, they call me now, but what care I for praise?
"It's oft" says I, in the days gone by
"It's oft" do I repine
For the days of old when we dug out gold
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 2]
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will admit, though they were brave and true
Whatever the pinch they ne'er would flinch
They never would fret nor whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 3]
There's old "Aunt" Jess, that hard old cuss, who never would repent
He never missed a single meal and he never paid a cent
But old "Aunt" Jess like all the rest, at death did he resign
And in his bloom, he went up the flume
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 4]
That Ragshag Jim, that roaring man, could outroar a buffalo, you bet
He'd roar all day and he'd roar all night, and I guess he's roaring yet
One night Jim fell in a prospect hole, 'twas a roaring bad design
And in that hole Jim roared out his soul
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 5]
That Wily Bill, that funny man, who was full of funny tricks
And when he was in a poker game he was always hard as bricks
He'd ante you stud, he'd play you a draw, he'd go you a hatful blind
In a struggle with death, Bill lost his breath
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 6]
There was New York Jake, that butcher boy, who was fond of getting tight
And every time he got on a spree he was spoiling for a fight
One night Jake edged against a knife in the hands of old Doc Stein
And over Jake they held a wake
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 7]
There was Monte Pete, I'll ne'er forget the luck he always had
He would deal for you both day and night as long as he had a scam
It was a pistol shot that lay Pete out, it was his last resign
It caught Pete sure right in the door
In the days of Forty-Nine
[Verse 8]
Of all the comrades that I've had there's none that's left to boast
And I am left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And as I pass from town to town, they call me The Rambling Sign
Since the days of old when we dug out the gold
And the days of Forty-Nine