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The Russian Futurists

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The Russian Futurists

Troy Weight

You've got the Gold locked up
In a snow capped shed that's in the frozen North
That mine's been dug so deep
And there's nothing left, but I still pan the stream
Cold night：in mining camps
Have proved to me I'm running out of time
When Spring comes I'll head back home
With a fortune to spend, but to lend not to own
By oil lamps, I write these notes
Sit back and laugh at what I wrote
Up North's a real strange spot
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Where the bears match the snow and it's dark out alot
Woodstoves will keep me warm
On the nights the snow screams at the weight of the storm
I want some time sway
From coming up empty and wasting a day
When spring comes I'll head back home
With a fortune to spend but to lend not to own
I'll be so proud! I'll strike it rich!
I'll have it all, without a hitch?