(This score available as
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Oh, California I come from Salem City with my washbowl on my knee, I'm going to California, the gold dust for to see. It rained all day the day I left, the weather it was dry The sun so hot I froze to death Oh brothers, don't you cry. cho: Oh, California, that's the land for me I'm bound for San Francisco with my washbowl on my knee. I jumped aboard ihe Liza ship and traveled on the sea, And every time I thought of home I wished it wasn't me; The vessel reared like any horse, that had of oats and wealth I found it wouldn't throw me so I thought I'd throw myself. I thought of all ihe pleasant times we've had together here I thought I ought to cry a bit but couldn't find a tear; The pilot's bread was in my mouth, the gold dust in my eye And though I'm going far away dear brothers don't you cry. I soon shall be in Frisco, and there I'll look around, And when I see the gold lumps I'll pick them off the ground- I'll scrape the mountains clean, my boys, I'll drain the rivers dry A pocket full of rocks bring home so brothers, don't you cry. from A Folk Song History of America, Forlucci note: just one parody of a very popular song. RG
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!