In the West Sierra foothills,
Where golden rivers flow
Lived a frog named Beauregard,
Who played the old banjo
Legend says a miner, 49er,
Struck it rich
He took his gold to Frisco,
And left that banjo in the ditch

Now, Beauregard was hopping
Near Angel’s Creek, one day
And stumbled on that banjo,
And commenced to play
He’d play the old barn dances,
Full moon shinin’ bright
That wild-eyed, banjo-picking frog
Would play till morning light.

He’s the Celebrated Pickin’ Frog
Of Calaveras County
Picking five-string, that’s his specialty!
Why, he can out-pick any frog
In Calaveras County
Better than any frog ever you’ll see!

Well, soon enough that bullfrog
Was traveling town-to-town
The critters came to hear him play,
From all the ponds around
At Smiley’s amphitheatre,
He played to great acclaim,
Even got a big, green, slimy star,
On the Froggywood ‘Hop of Fame’

One day a stranger came to town,
Her name was Clementine
She played a ‘bowl back’ mandolin,
And played it mighty fine
She played the “Horse-Fly Two-Step,”
As salamanders smiled,
When Beau picked up that old five-string,
The turtles all went wild.

Well, when the song was over,
Beau took her by the hand,
He said, “My darling Clementine,
Let’s start an old-time band.”
“Of course, my dearest Beauregard”
…The rest is his-to-ry
You can hear ‘em play, every Saturday night
On the Grand Ol’ Hopp-err-eee

They’re the Celebrated Pickin’ Frogs
Of Calaveras County
Jug Band Music, that’s their specialty!
Why, they can out-pick any frogs
In Calaveras County
They’re the finest bull frog band,
That ever you’ll see!
Why, they can out-pick any frogs
In Calaveras County
They’re the finest bullfrog pickin’ band,
That ever you’ll see!