GOLDEN HILLS

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It's stormin' in the West, and lightin' lit up the Sky...

We're here for a bury'em and to tell old hands Goodbye,

For they're mined and lit a ton of powder and paid their dues...

To the Facny Girls and Saloon Keepers...

Their passin' bad news,

Their old dogs will howl in the wind, their sorrow they will tell...

But we know they're headed for Clamper Heaven, they're to tough for Hell!!!

WHen the miles are all tallied up, and the truths all said...

Some Clamper will whiper, they're just a restin, Mister... THEY AIN'T DEAD