'49

Joshua Zimmerman

We loaded rifles with our ragged britches on
We built the wagons and we head to California
I've got a lot to say, so you must sit and take it all

Your father looked at me like a thing that don't belong
Some sorry sailor with no fortunes for his daughter
I'll take your words with me
I'll cross the Rockies in the fall
To win my baby
Find fortunes fit to take you home

Blood washes glitter from stones
Mad forces, bodies and bones
Blood washes glitter from stone

Four years and seven days since I left what was my home
Returned to find you cavorting with another
He bent a knee for you
Bought you a ring of solid gold
That vein my fate pursued
I could have made five hundred more

You're breaking my patience
You're breaking my patience
You're breaking my patience down

Patience down
Patience down
Break it down

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