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 outroar 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 -- 'T was 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. |