I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore
LAm SOL LAmIn the good old golden days.
SOLThey call me a bummer and a gin sot, too
But what cares I for praise
DO LAmI wander around from town to town
DO LAmJust like a roving sign,
And all the people all say "There goes Tom Moore
SOL LAmin the days of '49.
FA DOIn the days of old, in the days of gold
How oftentimes I repine
FA DOFor the days of old when we dug up the gold
LAmIn the days of '49.
There was Nantuck Bill, I knew him well,
A feller that was fond of tricks.
At a poker game he was always there
And heavy with his bricks.
He would ante up and draw his cards
And go in a hatfull blind
In a game of bluff, Bill lost his breath
In the days of '49.
There was New York Jake, a butcher boy
He was always getting tight.
And every time that he got full
He was always hunting a fight.
One night he run up against a knife
In the hands of old Bob Kline
And over Jake they held a wake
In the days of '49.
There was poor old Jess, the old lame cuss
He never would relent.
Her never was known to miss a drink
Or ever spend a cent.
At length old Jess like all the rest
Who never would decline,
In all his bloom went up the flume
In the days of '49.
There was roaring Bill from Buffalo
I never will forget.
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night
And I guess he's roaring yet.
One night he fell in a prospector's hole
In a roaring bad design,
In in that hole roared out his soul
In the days of '49
I'm old Tom Moore from the
..bummer's shore
In the good old golden days.
SOLThey call me a bummer and a gin
..sot, too
LAm SOL LAmBut what cares I for praise
DO LAmI wander around from town to town
Just like a roving sign,
DOAnd all the people all say "There
LAm..goes Tom Moore
in the days of '49.
FA DOIn the days of old, in the days of
..gold
FA DOHow oftentimes I repine
FA DOFor the days of old when we dug up
..the gold
LAmIn the days of '49.
There was Nantuck Bill, I knew him
..well,
A feller that was fond of tricks.
At a poker game he was always
..there
And heavy with his bricks.
He would ante up and draw his
..cards
And go in a hatfull blind
In a game of bluff, Bill lost his
..breath
In the days of '49.
There was New York Jake, a butcher
..boy
He was always getting tight.
And every time that he got full
He was always hunting a fight.
One night he run up against a
..knife
In the hands of old Bob Kline
And over Jake they held a wake
In the days of '49.
There was poor old Jess, the old
..lame cuss
He never would relent.
Her never was known to miss a
..drink
Or ever spend a cent.
At length old Jess like all the
..rest
Who never would decline,
In all his bloom went up the flume
In the days of '49.
There was roaring Bill from
..Buffalo
I never will forget.
He would roar all day and he'd
..roar all night
And I guess he's roaring yet.
One night he fell in a
..prospector's hole
In a roaring bad design,
In in that hole roared out his
..soul
In the days of '49
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