Bob Dylan – Days Of 49 (Ukulele)

   Am                     G 
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore

       Am       G      Am
In the good old golden days.

                            G
They call me a bummer and a gin sot, too

    Am         G     Am 
But what cares I for praise

  C                  Am 
I wander around from town to town

C                   Am
 Just like a roving sign,

    C                             Am
And all the people all say "There goes Tom Moore

       G         Am
in the days of '49.

       F                   C
In the days of old, in the days of gold

    F              C    
How oftentimes I repine

        F                   C
For the days of old when we dug up the gold

       Am
In the days of '49.

There was Nantuck Bill, I knew him well, A feller that was fond of tricks. At a poker game he was always there And heavy with his bricks. He would ante up and draw his cards And go in a hatfull blind In a game of bluff, Bill lost his breath In the days of '49. There was New York Jake, a butcher boy He was always getting tight. And every time that he got full He was always hunting a fight. One night he run up against a knife In the hands of old Bob Kline And over Jake they held a wake In the days of '49. There was poor old Jess, the old lame cuss He never would relent. Her never was known to miss a drink Or ever spend a cent. At length old Jess like all the rest Who never would decline, In all his bloom went up the flume In the days of '49. There was roaring Bill from Buffalo I never will forget. He would roar all day and he'd roar all night And I guess he's roaring yet. One night he fell in a prospector's hole In a roaring bad design, In in that hole roared out his soul In the days of '49