The Gold At The End Of The Road

You start off all young, your journey begun
Your eyes are dashing to behold
The sights that you see, the smells from your feet
And your breath when it’s really too cold

And after a time, you’re told in a rhyme
That there’s gold at the end of the road
And you track and you toil, you break and you broil
For the gold at the end of the road

You’re not so young now, and your jaw is aground
From the amount of work on your load
But you’re still young yet, and you won’t regret
The gold at the end of the road.

And after a time, you’re told in a rhyme
That there’s gold at the end of the road
And you track and you toil, you break and you broil
For the gold at the end of the road

You scramble and scrape, you gamble and gape
And make every call and all folds
But you still can’t make the money you need
To have the gold at the end of the road.

And after a time, you’re told in a rhyme
That there’s gold at the end of the road
And you track and you toil, you break and you broil
For the gold at the end of the road

And then you grow old, and your shoulders turn mauve
And your bread becomes crusty and mold.
And yet you continue, on this path sans venue
For some gold at the end of the road.

And after a time, you’re told in a rhyme
That there’s gold at the end of the road
And you track and you toil, you break and you broil
For the gold at the end of the road

And now you’re all spent, your skeleton’s a dent
And your skin is a huggin’ your bones
And you feel a sensation, a queer revelation
About the gold at the end of the road.

And you cry to the sky, and you ask it “why why!”
“Why was I never told?”
“The Gold’s not a price, it’s nor a gold piece”
“But my life, which I wasted for ore.”

And after a time, you’re told in a rhyme
That there’s gold at the end of the road
And you track and you toil, you break and you broil
For the gold at the end of the road

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