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THE LITTLE OLD SOD SHANTY
I AM looking rather seedy now, while holding down my claim, And my victuals are not always served the best; And the mice play shyly round me as I nestle down
to rest In my little old sod shanty on my claim.
The hinges are of leather and the windows have
no glass, While the board roof lets the howling blizzards in, And I hear the hungry cayote as he slinks up
through the grass Round the little old sod shanty on my claim.
Yet, I rather like the novelty of living in this way, Though my bill of fare is always rather tame, But I'm happy as a clam on the land of Uncle Sam In the little old sod shanty on my claim.
But when I left my Eastern home, a bachelor so
To try and win my way to wealth and fame,
I little thought I'd come down to burning twisted
hay In the little old sod shanty on my claim.