Folk process, 21st Century:

While listening to one of Carpenter's recordings, I thought I heard this:

                I thought I heard our captain say,
                Those hills of gold are made of clay.

After listening more closely, it was clear that the old shantyman was singing,               

                I thought I heard our captain say,
                We're bound away to Mobile Bay.

That's how rough some of the recordings are! (Neat new verse, though.)