In a cavern, in a canyon, 
Excavating for a mine, 
Dwelt a miner, forty-niner 
And his daughter - Clementine 
 [bad word]  
Oh my Darling, Oh my Darling, 
Oh my Darling Clementine. 
Thou art lost and gone forever, 
Dreadful sorry, Clementine. 

Light she was and like a fairy, 
And her shoes were number nine, 
Herring boxes without topses 
Sandals were for Clementine 

Drove she ducklings to the water 
Every morning just at nine, 
Hit her foot against a splinter 
Fell into the foaming brine.  [bad word] lips above the water, 
Blowing bubbles soft and fine, 
But alas, I was no swimmer, 
So I lost my Clementine 

How I missed her! How I missed her! 
How I missed my Clementine, 
But I kissed her little sister, 
And forgot my Clementine. 

Then the miner, forty-niner, 
Soon began to peak and pine, 
Thought he oughter join his daughter, 
Now he's with his Clementine. 

In a churchyard near the canyon, 
Where the myrtle doth entwine, 
There grow roses and the posies, 
Fertilized by Clementine. 

In my dreams she still doth haunt me, 
Robed in garments, soaked in brine; 
THen she rises from the water 
And I kiss my Clementine.