My name is Dan Gold.
An old bachelor I am.
I'm keeping old batch on
an elegant plan.
You'll find me out here
on Alberta's bush plain.
A starvin' to death on a government
claim.
So come to Alberta,
there's room for you all,
where the wind never ceases,
and the rain always falls,
where the sun always sets,
and there it remains
till we get frozen out
on our government claims.
My house, it is built of the natural soil,
my walls are erected
according to oil,
my roof has no pitch,
it is level and plain,
and I always get wet
when it happens to rain.
My clothes are all ragged,
my language is rough,
my bread is case -hardened
and solid and tough.
My dishes are scattered all
over the room,
my floor gets afraid
at the sight of a broom.
How happy I feel when I roll
into bed
The rattlesnake rattles a tulipy head
The little mosquito, devoid of all fear
Crawls over my face and into
my ear
The little bedbug,
so cheerful and bright
It keeps me a -pluffin' two -thirds
of the night
And the smart little flea,
with tacks in his toes,
Crawls up through me,
whiskers and tickles me nose.
You may try to raise wheat,
you may try to raise rye,
You may stay there and live,
you may stay there and die,
But as for myself,
I'll no longer remain
A starvin' to death on
a government claim.
So, farewell to Alberta,
farewell to the West
It's backwards,
I'll go to the girl I love best
I'll go back to the East and
get me a wife
And never eat cornbread
the rest of me life