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
And old John Sutter soon came to wish
He'd 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
Chorus:
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 Alabama
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
Chorus
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
Chorus
And some would curse John Sutter's Mill
Some men's thirsts are never filled
Writer(s): Dan Fogelberg
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