Johnny Cash - The Cremation of Sam McGee lyrics

There's strange things done in
The midnight sun
By the men that toil for gold
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge
Of Lake Lebarge that i cremated Sam McGee

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee
Where the cotton blooms and blows
Why he left his home in the
South to roam 'round the Pole
God only knows he was always cold
But the land of gold seemed to
Hold him like a spell
Though he'd often say in his homely way
That "he'd sooner live in hell"
On a Christmas Day we were mushing
Our way over the Dawson trail


You talk of your cold! Through the parkas
Fold it stabbed like a driven nail
If our eyes we'd close
Then the lashes froze till
Sometimes we couldn't see
It wasn't much fun
But the only one to whimper was Sam McGee

And that very night
As we lay packed tight in
Our robes beneath the snow
And the dogs were fed
And the stars overhead were
Dancing heel and toe
He turned to me, and "Cap" says
He, "I'll cash in this trip, i guess
And if I do, i'm asking that you won't
Refuse my last request"

Well, he seemed so low that
I couldn't say no
Then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursed cold
And it's got right hold till I'm
Chilled clean through to the bone
Yet it ain't being dead it's my awful
Dread of the icy grave that pains
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair
You'll cremate my last remains"

Well, a pal's last need is a thing to heed
So I swore I would not fail
And we started on at the break of
Dawn but God! he looked ghastly pale
And he crouched on the sleigh
And he raved all day of his home in Tennessee
And before nightfall a corpse was all
That was left of Sam McGee

With a corpse half hid that I
Couldn't get rid, I hurried, horror-driven
There wasn't a breath in that land of death
Because of
A promise given It was lashed to the sleigh
And it seemed to say: "You may
Tax your brawn and brains
But you promised true
And it's up to you to
Cremate my last remains"

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid
And the trail has it's own stern code
In the days to come, though
My lips were numb
In my heart how I cursed that load
In the long, long night, by the
Lone firelight, while the huskies
Round in a ring
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows
O God! how I loathed that thing

And every day that quiet clay seemed
To heavy and heavier grow and on I went
Though the dogs were spent and
The grub was getting low
And the trail was bad, and I felt half mad
But I swore I would not give in
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing
And it hearkened with a grin

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge
And a derelict there lay
It was jammed in the ice
But I saw in a thrice it
Was called the "Alice May"
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit
And I looked at my frozen chum
Then "Here" said I, with a sudden cry
"is my crematorium"

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor
And I lit the boiler fire
Some coal I found that was lying around
And I heaped the fuel higher
The flames just soared
And the furnace roared such a
Blaze you never did see
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal
And I stuffed in Sam McGee

Then I made a hike
For I didn't like to hear him sizzle so
And the heavens scowled, and
The huskies howled
And the wind began to blow
It was icy cold, but the hot
Sweat rolled down my cheeks
And I don't know why
And the greasy smoke in an inky
Cloak went streaking down the sky

I do not know how long in the
Snow I wrestled with grisly fear
But the stars came out and they danced
About before again I ventured near
I was sick with dread
But I bravely said: "I'll just
Take a peek inside i guess he's cooked
And it's time I looked" then
The door I opened wide

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm
In the heart of the furnace roar
And he wore a smile you could see a mile
And he said: "Please close that door
It's fine in here
But I greatly fear you'll let
In the cold and storm
And since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee
This is the first time I've been warm"
There's strange things done in
The midnight sun
By the men who toil for gold
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge
Of Lake Lebarge that i cremated Sam McGee