|
To be rich is to still remember |
|
To treasure your first dime |
|
To have a chance to say farewell |
|
Story of your life, time of solitude and strife |
|
Freedom of an open road, hope and many miles to go |
|
Promises to keep, countless gold fields to reap |
|
To be rich is to seek, to relive a memory |
|
Far off lands, quests of old |
|
Self respect, true grit |
|
Never care what a fortune might buy |
|
To seek is to be rich |
|
All the strangers on your path |
|
Crossroads, the letters from home |
|
The cooling embers of a Yuletide heart |
|
All the sounds of wilderness, the truth in wich you roamed |
|
Now your lost Rosebud has brought you back home |