the motherlode

counting the winters

numb to the cold

searching the valley

for secrets untold

the mountains are children

to someone so old

a king without kingdom or throne

digging the mud and the stone

all men have left here

but you have remained

at the banks of the river

forever the same

though no water flows here

the memory stays

as long as it stays you are here

heartbroken year after year

people running away

running like strangers

day after day

leave him alone

golden river running from her home

the sun was an altar

before which he knelt

and raised up the dagger

that hung from his belt

he cursed his delusion

and the sadness he felt

weeping at what he'd become

just a fool in the gold of the sun

people running away

running like strangers

day after day

leave him alone

golden river running from her home

golden river running from her home

golden river running from her home

golden river running from her home