Life in California
Air: Used Up Man
Comic Songs Or Hits at San Francisco, by Dr. D. G. Robinson and Sung with him at the San Francisco Theatre.
San Francisco, Commercial Book and Job Office, 1853.
Oh, I ha’nt got no home,
nor nothing else, I s’pose,
Misfortune seems to follow me
wherever I goes;
I come to California with
a heart both stout and bold,
And have been up to the diggings, there
to get some lumps of gold.
But I’m a used up man, a perfect used up man,
And if ever I get home again, I’ll stay there if I can.
I lives ‘way down in Maine,
where I heard about the diggings,
So I shipped aboard a darned old barque,
commanded by Joe Higgins.
I sold my little farm, and
from wife and children parted,
And off to California sailed,
and left ‘em broken hearted.
But here's a used up man, &c.
When I got to San Francisco,
I saw such heaps of money,
And the way that folks at monte played,
I thought the game quite funny.
So I took my little pile,
and on the table tossed it,
And the chap who dealt me out the cards
says, “My friend, you have lost it!”
So you're a used up man, &c.
I got into a steamboat,
and started up the river,
Where I tho't the darned mosquitoes
would ha' taken out my liver.
When I got to Sacramento,
I buckled on this rigging,
And soon I found a decent place,
and so I went to digging.
But I'm a used up man, &c.
I got into the water, were the "fever-n-anger" took me,
And after I was froze to death, it turned about and shook me;
But still I kept to work, a hopin' 'twould be better,
But the water wouldn't fall a bit, but kept a getting wetter.
But I'm a used up man, &c.
I s’pose if I should die,
they’d take me to the Mission,
Or else Jim Riddle’d sell me of to pay up my physician.
I’ve tried to keep up courage,
and swore I wouldn’t “spree” it;
And here’s my pile for five months’ work,
I’d lief as not you'd see it.
For I'm a used up man, &c.
I don't know what to do, for all the time I'm dodging,
To hunt up grub enough to eat, and find a decent lodging;
I can't get any liquer, and no one seems to meet me,
Who'll take me by the collar now, and kindly ask to treat me!
For I'm a used up man, &c.
I'll go up to "Woodcock," and see if Tom wont trust me,
For Tom has got a good heart, I'm sure, to try to bust me;
But if they shouldn't know me there, or say I can't be trusted,
Why then, kind friends, without your help, the poor old miner's busted
For I'm a used up man, &c.
I don't know how it is, but I've a dreadful feeling,
If I don't get some business soon, I'll have to take to stealing;
I'd like some city office here, and the tax law wants correcting,
I'd make a first-rate Mayor too, and only want electing.
For I'm a used up man, &c.
But to my friends I see to-night, my thanks, I can't express 'em,
And for their generosity, can only say, God bless 'em!
For what of kindness they don't know, I'm sure ain't worth the knowing,
So with my warmest thanks, kind friends, I think I'll b a going.
For I'm a used up man, a perfect used up man,
And if ever I get home again, I'll stay there if I can.