I'm Old Tom Moore
from the bummer's shore
In the good old golden days
They call me a bum and a gin- soaked hoo
But what care I for praise
I've wandered around from
town to town
They call me the Ramblin' Sign
And all the people say,
"There goes Tom Moore
In the days of forty- nine."
My comrades they all loved me well
A jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will recall
Though they were all
brave and true
Whatever the pinch they
nev er would flinch
They never would fret or whine
And like good old bricks they took the kicks
In the days of forty- nine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
How oft'times I repine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
In the days of forty- nine
There was Big Bad Bob from Buffalo
Him I can't forget
He would roar all day and
he would roar all night
And I guess he's a- roarin' yet
One day he fell in a prospect hole
In a roarin' bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul
In the days of forty- nine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
How oft'times I repine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
In the days of forty- nine
Now
Poker Bill was one of the boys
He was always in a game
Whether he won or whether he lost
To him it was all the same
He would ante up and draw his cards
And go a hundred dollars blind
In a game with death Bill lost his breath
In the days of forty- nine
There was New York Jake,
the butcher's boy
He was always gettin' tight
And every time that he got full
He was coilin' for a fight
And old Jake rampaged against the knife
In the hands of old Bob Sykes
And over Jake they held a wake
In the days of forty- nine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
How oft'times I repine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
In the days of forty- nine
My comrades now they've all gone
There's none that's left to boast
And I'm left alone in my misery
Like the son of a wanderin' ghost
I've wandered around from
town to town
They call me the Ramblin' Sign
And all the people say,
"There goes Tom Moore
In the days of forty- nine."
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
How oft'times I repine
In the days of old
When we dug up the gold
In the days of forty- nine