ACRES OF CLAMS (OLD SETTLER'S SONG)
(learned orally in the 1950s from Barry Olivier and others)
I've travelled all over this country,
For each man who got rich by mining
So packing my grub in a blanket,
Arriving flat broke in midwinter
As I looked at my prospects so gloomy
But I staked me a claim in the forest,
And now that I'm used to the climate,
No longer the slave of ambition, (from miriam berg's folksong collection)
Prospecting and digging for gold--
I've tunnelled, hydraulicked, and cradled
And I have been frequently sold.
And I have been frequently sold,
And I have been frequently sold.
I've tunnelled, hydraulicked and cradled,
And I have been frequently sold.
I saw that hundreds grew poor.
So i made up my mind to try farming,
The only pursuit that is sure.
The only pursuit that is sure, etc.
And leaving my tools on the ground,
I started one morning to shank it
To the place that they call Puget Sound.
The place that they call Puget Sound, etc.
I found it all covered in fog,
And covered all over with timber
Thick as hair on the back of a dog.
Thick as hair on the back of a dog, etc.
The tears trickled down o'er my face,
And I thought that my travels had brought me
To the end of that jumping-off place.
To the end of that jumping-off place, etc.
And settled myself to hard toil.
For two years I chopped and I struggled,
But I never got down to the soil.
I never got down to the soil, etc.
I think that if man ever found
A place to live easy and happy,
That place it is called Puget Sound.
That place it is called Puget Sound, etc.
I laugh at the world and its shams,
And think of my pleasant condition,
Surrounded by Acres of Clams.