Hank Snow Cremation of sam McGee Lyrics:
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
by the men who moil for gold The Arctic trails
have their secret tales that would make your blood
run cold The Northern Lights have seen queer
sights but the queerest they ever did see Was that
night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam
McGee
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee where the cotton
blooms and blows Why he left his home in the South
to roam round the Pole God only knows He was
always cold but the land of gold seemed to hold
him like a spell Though he'd often say in his
homely way that he'd sooner live in hell
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over
the Dawson trail Talk of your cold through the
parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail If our
eyes we'd close then the lashes froze till
sometimes we couldn't see It wasn't much fun but
the only one to whimper was Sam McGee
And that very night as we lay packed tight in our
robes beneath the snow And the dogs were fed and
the stars o'er head were dancing heel and toe He
turned to me and Cap says he I'll cash in this
trip I guess And if I do I'm asking that you won't
refuse my last request
Well he seemed so low that I couldn't say no then
he says with a sort of moan It's the cursed cold
and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean
through to the bone Yet taint being dead it's my
awful dread of the icy grave that pains So I want
you to swear that foul or fair you'll cremate my
last remains
A pal's last need is a thing to heed so I swore I
would not fail And we started on at the streak of
dawn but God! he looked ghastly pale He crouched
on the sleigh and he raved all day of his home in
Tennessee And before nightfall a corpse was all
that was left of Sam McGee
There wasn't a breath in that land of death and I
hurried horror-driven With a corpse half hid that
I couldn't get rid because of a promise given It
was lashed to the sleigh and it seemed to say you
may tax your brawn and brains But you promised
[ Find more Lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.org/14R ]true and it's up to you to cremate those last
remains
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid and the trail
has its own stern code In the days to come though
my lips were dumb in my heart how I cursed that
load In the long long night by the lone firelight
while the huskies round in a ring Howled out their
woes to the homeless snows oh God! how I loathed
the thing
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and
heavier grow And on I went though the dogs were
spent and the grub was getting low The trail was
bad and I felt half mad but I swore I would not
give in And I'd often sing to the hateful thing
and it hearkened with a grin
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge and a
derelict there lay It was jammed in the ice but I
saw in a trice it was called the Alice May And I
looked at it and I thought a bit and I looked at
my frozen chum Then Here said I with a sudden cry
is my crematoreum
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor and I lit
the boiler fire Some coal I found that was lying
around and I heaped the fuel higher The flames
just soared and the furnace roared such a blaze
you seldom see And I burrowed a hole in the
glowing coal and I stuffed in Sam McGee
Then I made a hike for I didn't like to hear him
sizzle so And the heavens scowled and the huskies
howled and the wind began to blow It was icy cold
but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks and I
don't know why And the greasy smoke in an inky
cloak went streaking down the sky
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with
grisly fear But the stars came out and they danced
about ere again I ventured near I was sick with
dread but I bravely said: I'll just take a peep
inside I guess he's cooked and it's time I looked
then the door I opened wide
And there sat Sam looking cool and calm in the
heart of the furnace roar And he wore a smile you
could see a mile and he said please close that
door It's fine in here but I greatly fear you'll
let in the cold and storm Since I left Plumtree
down in Tennessee it's the first time I've been
warm
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
by the men who moil for gold The Arctic trails
have their secret tales that would make your blood
run cold The Northern Lights have seen queer
sights but the queerest they ever did see Was that
night on the marge of Lake Lebarge I cremated Sam
McGee
Lyrics: Cremation of sam McGee, Hank Snow [end]