Gather up the oxen, pick up your things!
Next stop Soda Springs.
These wheels spin so fierce.
This wagon carries our dreams.

On the Oregon Trail.

Further west into the unknown.
A future we'll make our own.
And this dust covers our past.
So hold tight - hold fast.

On the Oregon Trail.


Mary has Typhus.
William has the Pox.
John has dysentery.
John has dysentery.

This trail may be the death of me.
But don't let me die before I see
the hills of Oregon.

It may be diphtheria that strangles me.
Or I might suffocate from 'T.B'
But I'll stay alive long enough to see Oregon.
Only at journeys end Death can come for me.
And I'll die quite happily.
My life may the cost.
But I'll tell Death to get lost if he comes too fast.
I'll hold out.
I'll last.
Until Oregon.

I've seen the cold New England rain. I've seen the vast great plains.
I've seen the desert's diamond sand and snow that glistens on the land,
but I have not seen Oregon.
I fought off hunger. I fought off cold. I'm tired of fighting on this cursed road.

Oregon Trail, your a wicked one, your freezing snow, your burning sun.
Oregon Trail, your a vicious snake. You've taken all there was to take.
My wagon broke, my oxen lame.
The Oregon Trail ain't no game.
Son, the Oregon Trail ain't no game.