Sam McGee

So I left my home 'round the poles to roam in the spring of ninety-eight

For a fortune veiled in the ice and hail that would surely seal my fate

Sure the Yukon's cold, but they spoke of gold just buried 'neath the snow

How I thought I'd last in its frozen grasp I admit I'll never know

How I long to be back in old Plumtree where in winters fires burned bright

How I'd give my name for a single flame to fan this Christmas night

I despise the cold but I relish gold and they both have done me in

But dear Cap you see, if you heed my plea, we won't let the Yukon win

Close the door, you've been warned

Tonight's the first night since Tennessee that I have ever been warm