Paint Your Wagon

# Gold

# Gold

# Gold

# Gold

# Gold

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

# And come along

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# Where am I headin'?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# When will I be there? I don't know

# When will I get there?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

(Singing in French)

(Singing in Swedish)

(Singing in German)

(Singing in Chinese)

(Singing in Russian)

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

# And come along

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# When will I be there?

I ain't certain

# What will I get?

I ain't equipped to say

# But who gives a damn?

# Who gives a damn?

# Who gives a damn? We're on our way

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# Where am I headin'?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# When will I be there? I don't know

# When will I get there?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# Where am I headin'?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# When will I be there? I don't know

# When will I get there?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

# And come along

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# When will I be there?

I ain't certain

# What will I get?

I ain't equipped to say

# But who gives a damn?

# Who gives a damn? We're... #

Farmers.

Let's go.

Whoa! Hold it.

There it is!

Get over here. Now stop it!

Hello!

Is... they... dead?!

They'd...

better be!

Cos I'm gonna bury 'em!

Let's go.

My brother.

My brother.

He's dead.

His shoulder and leg

is pretty badly broken.

-You a doctor?

-Horse doctor. But bones is bones.

Also a blacksmith.

Bring brother.

More in the centre.

Oh, God...

we pass on to You

the body and soul...

of this nameless peckerhead.

Well, at least he went quick,

and he ain't going to suffer scurvy,

dysentery, spotted fever,

or the cholera

not to mention them other maladies

contracted in a consort

with low women.

Or waste years digging in the dirt

and finding dirt,

like I've been doing.

-Talk about him!

-You wanna be next?

And seeing how he survived that,

he could have been hit by timber,

fall down a shaft,

starved, get murdered

or committed suicide

on Christmas Eve.

What I mean, God, is you have

no pity for your living children,

so that's why we're asking you

to be a little kinder

to 'em when they dead.

So, with all due reverence, Lord,

we pass on to you

this corncracker's body and soul

to take him and to keep him...

I stake this claim! For me

and my new pardner, whoever he is...

Forever and ever. Amen.

Pull him up.

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

# And come along

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# Where am I headin'?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# When will I be there? I don't know

# When will I get there?

I ain't certain

# All I know is I am on my way

# Got a dream, boy

# Got a song

# Paint your wagon

# And come along

# Where am I goin'? I don't know

# When will I be there?

I ain't certain

# What will I get?

I ain't equipped to say

# But who gives a damn?

# Who gives a damn?

# We're on our way #

# I still see Elisa

# She keeps on returning

# As breathless

# And young as ever

# I still hear Elisa

# And still feel a yearning

# To hold her against me again

# Her heart was made of holidays

# Her smile was made of dawn

# Her laughter was an April song

# That echoes on and on

# Since I saw Elisa

# The shadows are falling

# And winter is calling above

# But I still see Elisa

# Whenever I dream

# Of love #

Elisa. That the name of your girl?

Yeah.

Oh, I found this. I thought

it might make a good crutch for you

now you seem to be

getting around pretty good.

Thanks.

You know, it just

don't seem right, Mr Rumson.

You doing all the work

and me getting half.

I mean, it's your mule,

your tools and all.

It was your brother.

Well...

where I come from, Mr Rumson,

we're cautious of strangers

who talk in an easy manner.

Oh, you got me down for some kind

of low scuff from New Orleans, hmm?

Sell you patent medicine

with one hand,

pinch your purse with the other?

Matter of fact,

that's what I was thinking.

As a matter of fact, you're right,

but I ain't yet sunk

to horse stealing.

Oh, I've salted claims, yeah.

And I've sold whisky to Injuns.

Once a man come at me with a gun,

and I killed him.

I can't think of one commandment

I ain't shattered.

I never did fancy my parents, let

alone respect them or honour them,

and I have coveted

my neighbour's wife.

Whenever I had a neighbour

and he had a wife. Mm-mm.

And I gamble and I cheat at cards,

but there is one thing I do not do.

I ain't never gulled a pardner.

The one sacred thing, even to low

scuff like me, is a man's pardner.

Two pennyweight short

of four ounces.

Now, you pass me your pouch,

I'll pour your share.

And, Pardner,

I'll swap pouches with you

anytime you say.

Well... I meant no offence,

Mr Rumson,

and I appreciate

you saving my life and all.

But what's expected in return?

That's right. I like to know

what crops I'm planting.

Well, when I get dead drunk,

fall in a muddy street,

I expect you to come get me,

cos I don't want to die muddy drunk.

If I owe a man $100,

stand good for me,

and if I get melancholy,

which can happen,

I expect you to be

my companion and solace me.

What happens when you get in a fight?

If four of anything come at me

at one time, you might lend a fist.

Up until that,

I can take care of myself.

You see, I don't fight fair.

Well, I don't fight at all

unless I absolutely have to.

I got kind of a temper,

and once I start, I just can't quit.

Well, good. Just remember

that I'm on your side.

Well...

I hear a shopkeeper's pulled into

town with a wagon full of whisky.

What do you say I hoist you

up that mule and we go get boiled?

Oh, I ain't a boozing man

either, Mr Rumson.

Well, I am.

Town meeting tonight! There's

gonna be a town meeting tonight!

Town meeting tonight, Ben.

Blaah!

Ben! Ben Rumson!

Mooney! This is my pardner.

-I thought you went back to Ireland.

-I am. I'm just passing through.

-It's right on the way.

-Mooney.

How's it going, Willie?

I ain't won a hand

in three weeks, Ben.

This is my pardner.

He calls himself Rotten Luck Willie,

but that's just to get the suckers.

You can't beat him with five aces,

so don't play.

-Oh, I don't gamble.

-Neither does he.

My name's Ben Rumson.

This here's my pardner.

And I'm buying whisky

for any man that can stand up.

Aha!

-I was sitting there.

-Now you're standing there. Whisky!

Ben Rumson,

you have an outstanding account

in the amount of $68 from Yuba City,

and which you skipped town on me.

Skipped town on you?

I was run out.

Don't you remember, Gus?

I want to be paid now before

they run you out of this town.

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