If Rockhounds Wrote Holiday Carols...
CML&MS CAROLS – lyrics by Jean Ann & Dave Wahl-Piotrowski 1999

Hammers Clink (To the tune of Jingle Bells)

Down the road we go, to a quarry far away
it’s to the rocks we go, sleeping all the way
We got there by six, but did not leave till eight
I hope we get the boulder out before they lock the gate, oh

Hammers clink, chisels chink, the rock bits fly away
oh what fun it is to be on a field trip today-ay
Hammers clink, chisels chink, the rock bits fly away
the weather must be wonderful ‘cause George says it’s okay

We were driving fast, because it’s getting light
its okay to pass, but never on the right
the coffee cups are full, with rest stops gleaming bright
I knew we should have packed ahead and left on Friday night, Oh!


I finally found a vug, I thought was cobaltite
but it was just a bug, that scuttled out of sight
I sat down in despair but much to my delight
I found a slab of quartz and things that George said was all right, 


We sat down for lunch, to take a little break
dry sandwiches and punch is all I thought to make
We packed our car so full the bumpers touch the ground
I hope that we get out of here and into the next town. Oh!


Our banquet’s lots of fun we sit and talk and eat
I just hope I’ve won another centerpiece
The help is very good they quickly clear our plates
I guess we like the chicken ‘cause we never have Swiss steak, oh

Oh Metal Detector (To the tune of O Tannenbaum)

Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

I dig a hole to China deep
Hoping for treasures that I seek
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

A nail here, a lug nut there
Someday I’ll strike it rich I swear
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

This rusty cable that I pack
It’s not junk, it’s an artifact
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

I search for silver, maybe gold
But in my hand, a can I hold
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

And when these treasures I do find
Maybe I’ll buy the silent kind
Oh metal detector, oh metal detector
Thy speakers ever beeping

Deck the Halls

Deck the halls with balls of taconite
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
Trim the tree with cabs of jaspelite
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
Hematite it sparkles brightly
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
Tourmaline in quartz is spritely
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
If you’re lucky gold you’ll find
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
Of the microscopic kind
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
Don’t foget a stop at Palmer
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la
All that pink will make you calmer
Fa-la-la-la-la   la-la-la-la

That’s an iron country Christmas for you

Up on the Minedump (To the tune of Up on the Rooftop)

Up on the mine dump hear George call
Watch your feet you’re going to fall
Oh George don’t be such a bore
That’s what my hard hat is for

Ho, ho, ho who wouldn’t go
Ho, ho, ho who wouldn’t go
Up on the mine dump oh so steep
Down to the bottom in a heap

Up on the mine dump rockhounds climb
Crystal vugs they hope to find
Perfect cubes of fluorite brown
Pyrite dodecs nice and round


For those fossils too we climb
Trilobites we hope to find
Brachiopods will have to do
Crinoid stems and horn coral too


Up on the mine dump underground
That is where the gypsum’s found
Pencil ore we pick for kids
Selenite crystal flips our lids


Up on the mine dump we do crawl
Looking for adventure all
Visions of sparklies in our heads
We won’t stop until we’re dead


by Stew Spezzano, from the Dinosaur Forum on Compuserve
Part of Kuban's K-Paleo Place 

'Twas the night before Tertiary and all through the crater,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a gator...
Their carcasses were flung in the wind without care;
Making their species exceedingly rare.

Then from the earth there arose such a clatter...
As earthquakes and volcanos spewed out much matter.
Living in darkness, what should disappear...
The plankton, the plants, what else is not clear!

Out T rex, out pterosaurs, ceratopsians, and raptors,
Comet-killed ammonites and all of their captors.
Many small mammals burrowed to bed,
While fire and brimstone roared overhead.

Birds flew away to avoid the hot blast...
Going like hell until it had past.
Then as the snow and ice hit the ground...
The temperature dropped as things turned around.

Mammals came out of their holes with glee,
To eat bugs and berries, and of course just to pee.
After a time the sun showed some light;
Evolution kicked in with all of its might.

The earth had survived a terrible fright.
Merry Christmas for some; for dinos, GOOD NIGHT!




This poem was first published in the Summer 1997 Fossilphile newsletter of North Coast Fossil Club , Cleveland, OH. 

T'was time for a field trip and all through the houses
All the members were packing and calming their spouses;
The backpacks were packed up and loaded with care
In hopes that the fossils would really be there.

Those rockhounds were nestled all snug in their beds 
While visions of Trilobites danced in their heads. 
They'd polished their hard hats and packed their sunscreen, 
And tried to foresee all the things unforeseen. 

When out of a sound sleep I woke with a start, 
Wondering if it's the time to depart. 
Away to the window I flew like a flash, 
Grabbing my chisel and hammer to smash. 

The moon still was shining, can this be for real? 
A carload of fossilers, all filled with zeal! 
Their eyes how they focused, their smiles full of zest, 
Their cheeks were all flushed as they pictured their quest. 

You'd best get a move on, came the command, 
They're out there, they're waiting to jump in your hand! 
Then in a twinkling I joined this odd grouping, 
With their digging, and sawing, and scraping, and stooping. 

Away to the quarry we drove with intent, 
We paused at the edge, then began our descent. 
As I climbed over boulders, scraping my shin, 
I pictured the treasure troves hiding within: 

The Gastropods, Cephalopods, Trilobites, Snails, 
The Crinoids and Blastoids, and tiny feet trails. 
From the top of the quarry to the lowest of washes, 
Wearing my sunscreen and sometimes galoshes, 

We brave all the hurdles from bee stings to rain, 
And comments from friends that we're all quite insane. 
Be that as it may, when the time rolls around, 
All of us die-hards will likely be found 

In places like road cuts, and creek beds, and quarries, 
Digging up fossils, and sharing our stories. 
Soon we will head home all dusty and tired, 
We'll think of the specimens we just have acquired. 

We'll store them in basements, and boxes, and cases, 
Ignoring the shocked looks on family faces. 
For a couple of weeks we'll be tranquil and docile, 
Then our eyes will glaze over when we hear the word Fossil. 

Then they'll hear us exclaim as we drive out of sight, 
Happy hunting to all; we'll be back Sunday night! 

Donna Cole 
North Coast Fossil Club 
May, 1997


Last updated: 12/08/2008