There was shot-eyed Joe the drunkard, the toughest in the west
In a day he'd ninety-eight, no more and nothing less.
One day he keeled over and died after drink ninety-nine.
That was one too much for shot-eyed Joe in the days of '49.

Chorus:

In the days of old, in the days of gold
How often I repine
For the days of old when we dug up the gold
In the days of '49

There once was a man who had pounds of gold and never shared a gram
He went to the west, which was the best for diggin' up that land.
His favorite pastime was gettin' drunk and choppin' down the pines.
He slept all day and he drank all night in the days of '49

There was Kit Carson, one of the mountain men who lived in a house of buffalo skin.
He was always so lonely, and drank lots of gin.
When he was through with his trapping days he did resign
He became a guide on the Oregon Trail in the days of '49.

I never should've left my home in search of gold that day.
On the way I found regret, and knew I had to pay.
I knew I was close when I saw the sign;
Found some land and made it mine in the days of '49.

OI' Billy Joe Dore from the the wast sick shore and a man of no good deeds.
He drinks from a bottle and smokes from a pipe and has other needs.
He came out west with all the rest with hopes of gold to find,
And he hasn't left those sweet west side shores since the days of '49.

John McGee from the old coal mines was a very timid fella'.
He never got into trouble and was always really yella'.
People came from all around to beat upon his hind;
He wound up dead with a broken leg in the days of '49.

There ws hobo Joe, from Idaho, he was a bummer just like me.
He hopped the trains in the golden days, it was a sight to see.
When he could, he ate a lot, I always saw him dine.
But he hit the track and broke his back, in the days of '49.

There wuz old Bill, from Arkansas, who didn't have a clue.
He was always cheatin' on his wife, and lying 'bout it too.
When they found out that he wuz a cheat, he almost did resign.
Well Clinton was a hintin' that he was a slime, in the days of '49.

The buffalo, they roam around like fat old lazy men.
Then those hide hunters came, too bad for the Indian.
The natives wandered with the herds 'till the hunters killed their hinds,
And then all the buffalo were gone past the days of '49.

I met old Jake, his hands would shake in downtown Arbor.
He played guitar, it was heard far; he sang his heart out too.
He wandered from place ot place, and waddled with his crooked spine,
And with him he carried a case in the days of '49.

There was Banjo Bob from Caroline, who played from dawn to night,
Never had any drinks or got in any fight.
He met his wife at a club, and she was mighty fine,
They had a son and he was blind, in the days of '49.

There was fat Jim Lunchen, who was always munchin, he ate day and night.
When he got drunk he was a punk, he'd always pick a fight.
But then one day he picked a fight right after he did dine,
After eating eight pounds of chicken, he took a lickn', in the days of '49.

One leg Pete, with one arm too, liked to play lacrosse.
He fell down the stairs and broke his neck, considering it no big loss.
Then he fell again, but this time broke his spine.
He lives in a bubblem, but to him it's no trouble, in the days of '49.

There was big ol' Steel, a fat young boy, who was always eating lots.
He was known to eat whole cans of beans and knock out half a block.
One night he felt this coming up, but he ignored the signs
And with the fire went his life entire in the days of '49.

The day is long, it never ends during the spring day.
Sitting in class, staying awake just doesn't pay
If only there was no homework school would be just fine
School just seems so hard in the days of '49.