Acres of Clams

I've wandered all over this country,
Prospecting and digging for gold;

I've tunnel'd, hydraulicked, and cradled,
And I nearly froze in the cold.
And I nearly froxe in the cold,
And I nearly froze in the cold,
I've tunnel'd, hydraulicked, and cradled,
And I nearly froze in the cold.



I rolled up my grub in my blanket,
I left all my tools on the ground,
I started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound.
For the country they call Puget Sound,
For the country they call Puget Sound,
I started one morning to shank it
For the country they call Puget Sound.

No longer the slave of ambition,
I laugh at the worls and its shams,
And I think of my happy condition
Surrounded by acres of clams.
Surrounded by acres of clams,
Surrounded by acres of clams,
And I think of my happy condition
Surrounded by acres of clams.