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Lyrics
The Old Settler
--Traditional American
I've travelled all over the country
prospecting and digging for gold.
I have tunnelled hydraulicked and cradled
and I have been frequently sold.
Now for each one who grows rich by mining,
perceiving that hundreds grow poor,
I made up my mind to try farming:
the only pursuit that is sure.
So rolling my grub in a blanket
and leaving my tools on the ground,
One morning I started to shank it
for the place that they call Pueget Sound.
But arriving flat broke in midwinter,
I found it enveloped in fog,
and covered all over in timber
thick as hair on the back of a dog
Well, when I looked on my prospects so gloomy
the tears trickled over my face,
for I thought that my travels had brought me
to the edge of the jumping off place
But I staked out a claim in the forest
and I set myself down to hard toil.
For two years I chopped and I labored,
but I never got down to the soil.
Well I tried to get out of the country,
but poverty forced me to stay.
Until I became an old settler,
now nothing could drive me away!
Now that i'm used to the climate
I thnk that if man ever found
a place to live easy and happy
that eden is on Pueget Sound.
No longer a slave to ambition,
I laugh at the world and its shams,
as I think on my happy condition
surrounded by acres of clams.
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