This writer ,of course exonerates himself of any and all descriptions that might be deemed derogatory, and his singing never earned a gold record; but—(that’s another matter) A poetic drivel song I wrote for the Roaring Camp Gold mine crew 1985.

That’s Another Matter

Now ol’Roaring Camp’s a town, them ol’forty niners found
On a river deep and wild and gold a bearing,
Them ol’miner’s gittin down, pannin sand and diggin ground,
Just a bearded bunch a happy drunk and swearin,

With a pocket full of gold ,a little devil in their soul,
Their fun i think was first or maybe latter,
And their drinkin i believe , only quit when they would breath,
But their gold diggin that’s another matter,

Now ol’Elton he’s the boss, long of teeth that he ain’t lost,
With packin mules he said he did begin,
He’s a little past his prime in a lotta people’s mind ,
But don’t ever trust him with your lady friend,

With a pocket full of gold ,a little devil in his soul,
Too much eatin now would only make him fatter,
And he’d never drink a drop if that doctor made him stop,
But his gold diggin , that’s another matter,

Hey that river’s runnin high when that snow begins to fly,
Big ol’rocks and trees the icy water’s tossin,
But ol’Norm ‘ll never freeze, he’s got whiskers to his knees,
And he jumps every rock at the crossin,

With a pocket full of gold ,a little devil in his soul,
Kinda short for diggin holes ,he needs a ladder,
Tall and dark he didn’t git , it might slow him down a bit ,
But his gold diggin that’s another matter,

Now ol’Shirley pulls a slot with every dollar that she’s got,
Her gamblin’s maybe just a slight affliction,
But her playin’s quick and mean, she breaks every slot machine,
And ol’Tahoe knows she ain’t no apparition,

With a pocket full of gold a little devil in her soul,
Hot damn, she really makes them miner’s scatter,
She’s an angel in distress or the devil in a dress,
But her gold diggin ,that’s another matter,

Well ol’Errol he talks a lot bout them nuggets that he’s got
But his pannin ways I’d take a little caution,
He can find you every bit of the gold he’d ever git ,
But lose forty coffee cups that needed washin,

With a pocket full of gold, a little devil in his soul,
He trucks ‘em down that hill with mining chatter,
And he’d probably git a load ,if he could keep it on the road,
But his gold diggin that’s another matter,

Hey my pockets full of gold ,there’s a devil in my soul,
My singing now won’t make your crystal shatter,
And in the eyes of some I’m just a country western bum ,
But my gold diggin that’s another matter,