The Brothers Four — The Old Settlers Song

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