My name is Tom Hight, an old bachelor I am
You'll find me out West in the county of fame
You'll find me out West on an elegant plan
A-starving to death on my government claim

Hurrah, for Greer County! The land of the free
The land of the bedbug, grasshopper, and flea
I'll sing of its praises, I'll tell of its fame
While starving to death on my government claim

My clothes they are ragged, my language is rough
My bread is corn dodgers, both solid and tough
And yet I am happy and live at my ease
On sorghum, molasses, and bacon and cheese

My house, it is built of the national soil
Its walls are erected according to Hoyle
Its roof has no pitch, but is level and plain
I always get wet if it happens to rain

Hurrah, for Greer County! The land of the free
The home of the bedbug, grasshopper, and flea
I'll sing of its praises, I'll tell of its fame
While starving to death on my government claim

How happy am I when I crawl into bed!
A rattlesnake hisses a tune at my head
A gay little centipede, quite without fear
Crawls over my pillow and into my ear

Now all you claim holders, I hope you will stay
Chew your hardtack 'til you're toothless and gray
But for myself, I'll no longer remain
To starve like a dog on my government claim

Hurrah, to Greer County, where blizzards arise
Where the sun never sinks, the flea never dies
I'll sing of its praises, I'll tell of its fame
While starving to death on my government claim

Goodbye to Greer County, goodbye to the West
I'll travel back East to the girl I love best
I'll travel back East and marry me a wife
Call quits on corn dodgers the rest of my life