sam magee

there's a valley by the old north pole

where old sam mcgee died in search of gold

where ever i wonder in memories

i see the smoke from the pipe of sam mcgee

we had wondered way up there above the klondike

where we found the mighty mountain made of gold

there old sam he got sick and made me promise

that if he died i wouldn't leave him in that cold

the next morning he was cold and stiff and lifeless

so i dragged him forty days upon my sled

till i found a pine of driftwood in the valley

it was there i got the notion in my head

i took out my matches and i builded a fire

and i laid old sam upon the funeral pyre

he sat up a grinnin' with his pipe in his mouth

he sang ho