It was early spring of sixty three
when I met Scratchy-ass McGee
panning gold near Stockwell pass
with a feller he called Cass.

Ol' Cass, he was the silent type
who dug his gold and didn't gripe
the three of us near Stockwell pass
just me and him, and Scratchy-ass.

Well Scratchy-ass was none too tame
he hated his unwelcome name,
although the title fit him well
for often he would "scratch and smell."

Scratchy must have had a bug
that made him pull and prod and tug
cause he would dig as much down there
as he ever did for gold, I swear.

Now me an' Cass were gettin' sick
the more we watched ol' Scratchy pick,
he'd pull things from his underwear
he'd grunt and groan and then he'd stare,

He'd hold it to his nose and sniff
off'ring both of us a whiff
then he'd go off, quite content
playing with his excrement.

Cass said he was up for leavin,
but I thought maybe we'd get even
and keep our claim near Stockwell pass
by getting rid of Scratchy-ass.

We got ol' Scratchy good and drunk
and when he passed out on his bunk
we rolled him over on his gut
and stuffed a nugget up his butt!

The next day Scratchy starts to dig
but this time pulls out something big!
his eyes lit up like crystal glass
he'd dug and found gold, in his ass!

He ran the length of Stockwell pass
shouting, "I got gold inside my ass!"
We claimed a miracle had transpired
and blessed as such should be retired.

He went to town from what I'm told
to show the folks where he found gold.
They locked up Scratchy so they say-
but I'll bet he's scratchin' to this day!

So when you hear about someone
who scratches in their ass for fun
recall this tale that you've been told
and ask them if they've found their gold!