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Days Of '49

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"Days of '49" came originally from "Old Put's Golden Songster." put together by "Old Put" himself in Gold Rush Days.
While there wasn't much money in the mines, he found that there were plenty of miners willing to pay commodity. for any kind of music or entertainment, this being a scarce


Days of '49

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

______________________________________________

      Am                         G                         Am    G        Am
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
   Am                        G                       Am         G               Am
A few hard cases I will recall they all were brave and true
         C                               Am                                   C                               Am
Whatever the pinch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine.
         C                                Am                               G             Am
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks In the days of '49.

CHORUS

                  Am                             G                                   Am        G         Am
There was New York Jake, the butcher's boy, He was always getting tight.
        Am                    G                                             Am        G       Am
And every time that he'd get booked (?) He was spoiling for a fight.
         C                           Am                            C                          Am
Then Jake rampaged against a knife In the hands of old Bob Syne,
        C                       Am                          G              Am                
And over Jake they held a wake In the days of '49.

CHORUS
                  Am                    G                                 Am       G     Am      
There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game,
Am                           G                               Am             G                Am 
Whether he lost or whether he won, To him it was always the same.
                 C                  Am                                           C                     Am
He would ante up and draw his cards  And he would go you hatful blind.
         C                                Am                               G           Am
In a game with death, Bill lost his breath In the days of '49.

CHORUS:

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

CHORUS

  Am                            G                                  Am              G        Am     
Oh, the comrades all that I've had, There's none that's left to boast.
       Am                            G                          Am         G                Am             
And I'm left alone in my misery like some ol' poor wandering ghost.
        C                      Am                           C                                Am
And I pass by from town to town, they call me the rambling sign.
           C                             Am                             G               Am
There goes Tom Moore, a bummer sure, In the days of '49.

END WITH THIS CHORUS

           F                            C                              F                     C      
In the days of old, in the days of gold, how often times I repine
              F                                C                                      Am
For the days of old when we dug up the gold, In the days of '49.

            F                                 C                                F                   C
In the days of old when we dug up the gold, how ofttimes I repine,
           F                              C                              Am
In the days of old, In the days of gold, In the days of '49.