Icame from Salem City,

With my washbowl on my knee,

I'm going to California,

The gold dust for to see.

It rained all night the day I left.

The weather it was dry

The sun so hot I froze to death

Oh, brothers, don't you cry!

Chorus:

Oh, California,

That's the land for me!

I'm bound for San Francisco

With my washbowl on my knee.

Ijumped aboard the 'Liza ship

And traveled on the sea,

And everytime I thought of home

Iwished it wasn't me!

The vessel reared like any horse

That had of oats a wealth;

Ifound it wouldn't throw me, so

Ithought I'd throw myself!

Ithought of all the pleasant times

We've had together here,

Ithought I ought to cry a bit,

But couldn't find a tear.

The pilot's bread was in my mouth,

The gold dust in my eye,

And though...