SACRAMENTO

(trad.)

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When formed our band,
We were all well manned
To journey afar to the promised land.
The golden ore is rich in store,
On the bands of the Sacramento.
CHORUS:
The Ho, boys, Ho, to Californy-o;
There's plenty of gold so I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacramento.
As oft we roam o'er the dark sea's foam
We'll never forget kind friends at home.
But memory kind still brings to mind,
The love of friends we left behind.

We'll expect our share of the coarsest fare,
And sometimes sleep in the open air,
On the cold damp grounds, we'll all sleep sound,
Except when the wolves go howlin' around.

As we explore to the distant shore,
Filling our pockets with the shining ore,
How it will sound as the shout goes 'round,
Filling our pockets with a dozen pounds.

The gold is there most anywhere,
We dig it out rich with an iron bar,
But there it is thick, with spade or pick,
We take out chunks as big as a brick.

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