Oregon Trail

Tim Griffin

Oregon Trail

Copyright © 2011 by Tim Griffin
Used by permission - All Rights Reserved

Mister Smith was born in Boston, no particular family
No education, no connections, and no opportunity
But he heard about a land where no one cares where you're from
And he wants to be where land is free to anyone who'll come

(chorus) Fare thee well to old Saint Louis, now we're up and bound away
We're headed through Missouri out to Californi-ay
Wagons ho, there'll be no one to tell the story if we fail
But we're all bound for glory on the Oregon Trail

Mr. Paddy hails from Dublin, he's as good as apple pie
But in New York he saw the signs that read, "No Irish Need Apply"
Still he swore to find success, 'twas his father's last request
So he left New England in his dust and now he's heading West

(repeat chorus)

Mister Jackson was a model slave, he needed no chain
And his master'd be amazed to find him on our wagon train
Master sold him down the river, he took a detour on the way
And it fills our hearts with courage every time we hear him say

(repeat chorus)

Mister Parson is a preacher, reads his Bible all the time
And he reads outrageous revelations in between the lines
Now his soul's in mortal danger and his life's in danger too
Joined our caravan of strangers 'fore his parish could pursue

(repeat chorus)

Now you'll seldom see the best and brightest leave their lives behind
It's the outcast and the misfit need a better life to find
Let the gentry keep their East Coast, it's the easy road they choose
But the West is won by lesser sons with nothing else to lose

(repeat chorus)