Days Of 49

Am                     G  
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore 
       Am       G      Am 
In the good old golden days. 
                            G 
They call me a bummer and a gin sot, too 
    Am         G     Am  
But what cares I for praise 
  C                  Am  
I wander around from town to town 
C                   Am 
 Just like a roving sign, 
    C                             Am 
and all the people all say "There goes Tom Moore 
       G         Am 
in the days of '49. 
       F                   C 
In the days of old, in the days of gold 
    F              C     
How oftentimes I repine 
        F                   C 
For the days of old when we dug up the gold 
       Am 
In the days of '49. 

There was Nantuck Bill, I knew him well, 
a feller that was fond of tricks. 
at a poker game he was always there 
and heavy with his bricks. 
He would ante up and draw his cards 
and go in a hatfull blind 
In a game of bluff, Bill lost his breath 
In the days of '49. 

There was New York Jake, a butcher boy 
He was always getting tight. 
and every time that he got full 
He was always hunting a fight. 
One night he run up against a knife 
In the hands of old Bob Kline 
and over Jake they held a wake 
In the days of '49. 

There was poor old Jess, the old lame cuss 
He never would relent. 
Her never was known to miss a drink 
Or ever spend a cent. 
at length old Jess like all the rest 
Who never would decline, 
In all his bloom went up the flume 
In the days of '49. 

There was roaring Bill from Buffalo 
I never will forget. 
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night 
and I guess he's roaring yet. 
One night he fell in a prospector's hole 
In a roaring bad design, 
In in that hole roared out his soul 
In the days of '49