Hexenwaldtreff-Wiki | Liederbuch / DaysOfFourtynine

Days of 49

	Am	G	Am	G	Am
I'm	old Tom Moore from the	bummer's shore in the	good old	golden	days.

	G	Am	G	Am
They call me a bummer and a	gin-sot, too, but	what cares	I for	praise

	C	Am	C	Am
I	wander 'round from	town to town, just	like a roving	sign,

	C	Am	G	Am
And	the people all say "There	goes Tom Moore in the	days of '	49.

	Am	F	C	F	C
	In the	days of old, in the	days of gold, how	oftentimes I re	pine

	F	C	Am
For the	days of old when we	dug up the gold, In the	days of '49.

There was Nantuck Bill, I knew him well, a feller 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.

In the days of old...

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.

In the days of old...

There was poor old Jess, the old lame cuss; He never would relent.

He 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.

In the days of old...

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,

And in that hole roared out his soul in the days of '49

In the days of old...