Old Hangtown, CA
Sometimes in the evening,
When the sun is sinking low,
And the pines are silhouetted
And I’ve nowhere else to go,
I remember good ol’ Placerville,
In the distant days of yore,
And I’d very nearly sell my soul
To walk its streets once more.
When its avenues were dusty
And its storefronts weathered wood,
When the girls were thin and lusty,
And the Ivy House still stood;
When Main Street ran a rutted course
And blooms were yet a bud,
The only ride to town, a horse,
And gold was in our blood;
When the Hangman’s Tree served nickel beer,
The Cary House was new,
Lamp-lit saloons exuded cheer
And frosty mugs of brew,
The three mile house was always full,
Lake Tahoe, days away,
And folks who stopped at Hangtown
Almost always came to stay.
Father in Heaven, hear my prayer.
Dear God, please grant my plea.
If I could just awaken there,
If time could set me free,
If once more I could stroll its streets,
And once more breathe its air,
I know there’s soul’s aplenty Lord,
That could benefit from prayer. ;)