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Days Of 49
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Fix lyrics Days Of 49 by Bob Dylan
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Current song lyrics
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days<br />They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?<br />I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign<br />And all the people say, There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew<br />A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true<br />Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine<br />Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight<br />And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight<br />But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein<br />And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game<br />Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same<br />He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind<br />In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget<br />He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet<br />One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design<br />And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast<br />And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost<br />And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign<br />&quot;There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 <br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
New song lyrics
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days<br />They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?<br />I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign<br />And all the people say, There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew<br />A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true<br />Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine<br />Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight<br />And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight<br />But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein<br />And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game<br />Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same<br />He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind<br />In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget<br />He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet<br />One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design<br />And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49<br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.<br /><br />Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast<br />And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost<br />And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign<br />&quot;There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 <br />In the days of old, in the days of gold<br />How oft'times I repine for the days of old<br />When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
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