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