"The Days of 'Forty-Nine"

You are looking now on old Tom Moore,
A relic of bygone days;
A Bummer, too, they call me now,
But what care I for praise?
For my heart is filled with the days of yore,
And oft I do repine
For the Days of Old, and the Days of Gold,
And the Days of 'Forty-nine.
Refrain--Oh, my heart is filled, etc.

I had comrades then who loved me well,
A jovial, saucy crew:
There were some hard cases, I must confess,
But they all were brave and true;
Who would never flinch, whate'er the pinch,
Who never would fret nor whine,
But like good old Bricks they stood the kicks
In the Days of 'Forty-Nine.
Refrain--And my heart is filled, etc.

There was Monte Pete--I'll ne'er forget
The luck he always had.
He would deal for you both day and night,
So long as you had a scad.
He would play you Draw, he would Ante sling,
He would go you a hatfull Blind--
But in a game with Death Pete lost his breath
In the Days of 'Forty-Nine.
Refrain--Oh, my heart is filled, etc.

There was New York Jake, a butcher boy,
That was always a-getting tight;
Whenever Jake got on a spree,
He was spoiling for a fight.
One day he ran against a knife
In the hands of old Bob Cline--
So over Jake we held a wake,
In the Days of 'Forty-Nine.
Refrain--Oh, my heart is filled, etc.

There was Rackensack Jim, who could out-roar
A Buffalo Bull, you bet!
He would roar all night, he would roar all day,
And I b'lieve he's a-roaring yet!
One night he fell in a prospect-hole--
'Twas a roaring bad design--
For in that hole he roared out his soul
In the Days of 'Forty-Nine.
Refrain--Oh, my heart is filled, etc.

There was Poor Lame Ches, a hard old case
Who never did repent.
Ches never missed a single meal,
Nor he never paid a cent.
But Poor Lame Ches, like all the rest,
Did to death at last resign,
For all in his bloom he went up the Flume
In the Days of 'Forty-Nine.
Refrain--Oh, my heart is filled, etc.

And now my comrades all are gone,
Not one remains to toast;
They have left me here in my misery,
Like some poor wandering ghost.
And as I go from place to place,
Folks call me a "Travelling Sign,"
Saying "There goes Tom Moore, a Bummer, sure,
From the Days of 'Forty-Nine."
Refrain--But my heart is filled, etc.