The Old Settler's Song - The Brothers Four

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