Shuck away yer co’t and weskit, grab the clam-
hoe’s muddy haft,
And endorsed by grit and muscle you’ll get
cash on ev’ry draft.
For yer check-book’s there, the clam flat; and
yer pen, sir, is the hoe,
And accounts are balanced daily by the ocean’s
ebb and flow.
Then the climbin’, crawlin’ water rubs the dig-
gin’ marks away,