In the Spring of Forty-seven, So the story, it is told, Old John Sutter went to the mill site Found a piece of shining gold. Well, he took it to the city Where the word, like wildfire, spread. Left that stone in the river bed. For they came like herds of locusts Every woman, child and man In their lumbering Conestogas They left their tracks upon the land. Some would fail and some would prosper Some would die and some would kill Some would thank the Lord for their deliverance And some would curse John Sutter's Mill. Well, they came from New York City, And they came from Alabam' With their dreams of finding fortunes In this wild unsettled land. Well, some fell prey to hostile arrows As they tried to cross the plains. And some were lost in the Rocky Mountains With their hands froze to the reins. Oh... Some would die and some would kill Some would thank the Lord for their deliverance And some would curse John Sutter's Mill. Well, some pushed on to California And others stopped to take their rest. And by the Spring of Eighteen-sixty They had opened up the west. And then the railroad came behind them And the land was plowed and tamed, When Old John Sutter went to meet his maker, He'd not one penny to his name. Oh... Some would die and some would kill Some would thank the Lord for their deliverance And some would curse John Sutter's Mill. And some would curse John Sutter's Mill Some men's thirsts are never filled
哈哈哈哈 O(∩_∩)O哈哈~ 好久不来了，不小心看了一眼自己主页，发现自动关联了自己以往发过的帖，点进这个看了一眼，笑个半死。。。敢情我当初还发过这么搞笑的东西啊，我自己完全不记得了 
雷达卡
发表于 2007-12-15 15:53:03
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