Well I pitched my tent on this campground Few days, few days And I give old Satan another round And I am going home I can't stay in these diggings Few days, few days Lord I can't stay in these diggings And I am going home Although I like the diggings here I won't stay here another year For years I've labored in cold ground And now, at last, I'm homeward bound I'm going home to stay a while Before I go I'll plant a smile These banking thieves I will not trust But with me take my little dust My mother she has gone before I'll meet her there at glory’s door So I pitched my tent on this campground And I give old Satan another round