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T OM HIGHT is my name, an old bachelor I am, You'll find me out West in the country of fame, You'll find me out West on an elegant plain, And starving to death on my government claim.
Hurrah for Greer County! The land of the free, The land of the bed-bug, Grass-hopper and flea; I'll sing of its praises And tell of its fame, While starving to death On my government claim.
My house is built of natural sod,
Its walls are erected according to hod;
Its roof has no pitch but is level and plain,
I always get wet if it happens to rain.
How happy am I on my government claim, I've nothing to lose, and nothing to gain; I've nothing to eat, I've nothing to wear,— From nothing to nothing is the hardest fare.
How happy am I when I crawl into bed,— A rattlesnake hisses a tune at my head,