Cremation Of Sam Mcgee Lyrics - Hank Snow

There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil 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 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 

Talk of your cold through the parka's 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 o'er head 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 taint 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 

A pal's last need is a thing to heed so I swore I would not fail 

And we started on at the streak of dawn but God! he looked ghastly pale 

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 

There wasn't a breath in that land of death and I hurried horror-driven 

With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid 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 those last remains 

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid and the trail has its own stern code 

In the days to come though my lips were dumb 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 oh God! how I loathed the 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 

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 trice 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 crematoreum 

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 seldom 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 ere again I ventured near 

I was sick with dread but I bravely said: I'll just take a peep 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 

Since I left Plumtree down in Tennessee it's the first time I've been warm 

There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil 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 I cremated Sam McGee