Lirama

I've wandered all over the country,
Prospecting and digging for gold.
I've tunneled, hydaulicked and cradled,
And nearly was froze in the cold.

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And so I departed for Puget Sound,
Away from a world full of shams,
I sing of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams.

For one who gets wealthy by mining,
I know many hundreds get poor,
I made up my mind to go digging
For something a little more sure.

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No longer the slave of ambition,
No leader, just one of the lambs,
I sing of my happy condition,
Surrounded by acres of clams.

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The time that you know you have ample,
That's when every care quickly scrams
Take heart in my fate, for example,
Content on my acres of clams.

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