Am C G Am [Verse 1]Am C G Am Oh the wife she tried to tell me that 'twas nothing but the thrummingAm C G Of a woodpecker a-rapping on the hollow of a tree;G Am C G Am Amd she thought that I was fooling when I said it was the drummingAm C G Of the mustering of legions and 'twas calling unto me;G Am C G 'Twas calling me to pull my freight and hop across the sea. [Verse 2]G Am C G Am Amd a-mending of my fish-nets sure I started up in wonder,Am C G Am For I heard a savage roaring and 'twas coming from afar;Am C G Am Oh the wife she tried to tell me that 'twas only summer thunder,Am C G Am Amd she laughed a bit sarcastic when I told her it was War:Am C G 'Twas the chariots of battle where the mighty armies are. [Verse 3]Am C G Am Then down the lake came Half-breed Tom with russet sail a-flyingAm C G Amd the word he said was "War" again, so what was I to do ?G Am C G Am Oh the dogs they took to howling and the missis took to crying,Am C G As I flung my silver foxes in the little birch canoe;G C G Am Yes, the old girl stood a-bubbling till an island hid the view. [Verse 4]Am C G Am Says the factor, "Mike, you're crazy! They have soldier men a-plenty.Am C G You're as grizzled as a badger and you're sixty year or so."G Am C G Am "But I haven't missed a scrap," says I, "Since I was one and twenty.Am C G Amd shall I miss the biggest? You can bet your whiskers? no!"G Am C G So I sold my furs and started ... and that's eighteen months ago. [Verse 5]Am C G Am For I joined the Foreign Legion and they put me for a starterAm C G In the trenches of the Argonne with the Boche a step away;G Am C G Am Amd the partner on my right hand was an apache from Montmartre;Am C G Amd on my left there was a millionaire from Pittsburgh, U.S.A.Am C G (Poor fellow! They collected him in bits the other day.) [Verse 6]C Am C G Am Well I'm sprier than a chipmunk, save a touch of the lumbago,Am C G Amd they calls me Old Methoosalah, and blagues me all the day.G C Am G C I'm their exhibition sniper and they work me like a Dago,C Am C G Amd laugh to see me plug a Boche a half a mile away.G Am C G Oh I hold the highest record in the regiment, they say. [Instrumental]Am C G Am A5 Am [Verse 7]Am C G Am Amd at night they gather round me, and I tell them of my roamingAm C G In the Country of the Crepuscule beside the Frozen Sea,G Am C Am Where the musk-ox run unchallenged and the cariboo goes homing;Am C G Amd they sit like little children, just as quiet as can be:F C G Men of every clime and color, how they harken unto me! [Verse 8]Am C G Am Amd I tell them of the Furland, of the tumpline and the paddle,Am C G Of secret rivers loitering, that no one will explore;G Am C G Am Amd I tell them of the ranges, of the pack-strap and the saddle,Am C G Amd they fill their pipes in silence, and their eyes beseech for more;G F C Am While above the star-shells fizzle and the high explosives roar. [Verse 9]Am C G Am Amd I tell of lakes fish-haunted where the big bull moose are calling,Am C G Amd forests still as sepulchers with never trail or track;Am C G Am Amd valleys packed with purple gloom, and mountain peaks appalling,Am C G Amd I tell them of my cabin on the shore at Fond du Lac;G F C G Amd I find myself a-thinking: Sure I wish that I was back. [Verse 10]Am C G Am So I brag of bear and beaver while the batteries are roaring,Am C G Amd the fellows on the firing steps are blazing at the foe;G Am C G Am Amd I yarn a fur and feather when the marmites are a-soaring,Am C G Amd they listen to my stories, seven poilus in a row,G F C G Seven lean and lousy poilus with their cigarettes aglow. [Verse 11]Am F C G Am Amd I tell them when it's over how I'll hike for Athabaska;Am C G Amd those seven greasy poilus they are crazy to go too.G F C Am Amd I'll give the wife the "pickle-tub" I promised, and I'll ask herAm C G The price of mink and marten, and the run of cariboo,G F C Am Amd I'll get my traps in order, and I'll start to work anew. [Verse 12]Am C G Am For I've had my fill of fighting, and I've seen a nation scattered,Am F C G Amd an army swung to slaughter, and a river red with gore,G F C G Am Amd a city all a-smolder, and ... as if it really mattered,Am C G For the lake is yonder dreaming, and my cabin's on the shore;F Am C F C Amd the dogs are leaping madly, and the wife is singing gladly,Am C G Amd I'll rest in Athabaska, and I'll leave it nevermore,G Em Am Amd I'll leave it nevermore.
The Man From Athabaska
Country Joe McDonald
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Tom: