The rain comes down the chimney, and your meat is black
with soot—
That’s a substitute for pepper in an old bark hut.

Chorus

In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
That’s a substitute for pepper in an old bark hut.

I’ve seen the rain come in this hut just like a perfect flood,
Especially through that great big hole where once the table
stood.
There’s not a blessed spot, me boys, where you could lay
your nut,
But the rain is sure to find you in the old bark hut.

Chorus

In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
But the rain is sure to find you in the old bark hut.

So beside the fire I make me bed, and there I lay me down,
And think myself as happy as the king that wears a crown.
But as you’d be dozing off to sleep a flea will wake you up,
Which makes you curse the vermin in the old bark hut.

Chorus

In an old bark hut. In an old bark hut.
Which makes you curse the vermin in the old bark