| BSA TROOP 445 GULFSTREAM COUNCIL FL | home |
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| Clementine |
Excavating for a mine,
Dwelt a miner forty-niner,
And his daughter Clementine.
Oh my darling, Oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine,
You are lost and gone forever,
Dreadful sorry Clementine.
Lite she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine;
Wearing boxes without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.
Drove she duckings to the water,
Every morning just at nine;
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into a foaming brine.
Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine,
But Alas! I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.
When the miner forty-niner,
Soon began to peak and pine,
Thought he oughta join his daughter,
No he's with his Clementine.
In a corner of the churchyard,
Where the murtle boughs entwine,
Grow the roses in their poses,
Fertilized by Clementine.
In my dreams she still doth haunt me,
Robed in garments soaked in brine.
Thou in life I used to hug her,
Now she's dead, I'll draw the line.
How I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine.
So I kissed her little sister,
And I forgot my Clementine,
Now you Boy Scouts, there's a moral
To this little tale of mine.
Artificial respiration
Would have saved my Clementine.