From Jack London, The Valley of the Moon (New York: McKinlay, Stone & Mackenzie, 1913)

[ The characters in the novel are said to sing this song; It begins on pages 386-7, without a title:]

[1] Oh! some folks boast of quail and toast,
Because they think it’s tony;
But I’m content to owe my rent
And live on abalone.

[2] Oh! Mission Point’s a friendly joint
Where every crab’s a crony,
And true and kind you’ll ever find
The clinging abalone.

[3] He wanders free beside the sea
Where’er the coast is stony;
He flaps his wings and madly sings—
The plaintive abalone.

[4] Some stick to biz, some flirt with Liz
Down on the sands of Coney;
But we, by hell, stay in Carmel,
And whang the abalone.

[On page 391 of the same book, the song is reprised, with the following verse:]

[5] We sit around and gaily pound,
And bear no acrimony,
Because our object is a gob
Of sizzling abalone.

[And then again on page 392:]

[6] Oh! some like ham and some like lamb,
And some like macaroni;
But bring me in a pail of gin
And a tub of abalone.

[7] Oh! Some drink rain and some champagne
Or brandy by the pony;
But I will try a little rye
With a dash of abalone.

[8] Some live on hope and some on dope,
And some on alimony;
But our tom-cat, he lives on fat
And tender abalone.

[9] The more we take, the more they make
In deep-sea matrimony;
Race-suicide cannot betide
The fertile abalone.