the saphire sun hangs low in the sky it paints my back in brilliant hues aptly placed objects cast dark shadows in somber mourning of my heart the sun explodes in my rearview reminding me of the light i've left behind i flip the mirror to impede my pain it's too late, she's already on my mind opposing traffic flys swiftly westward shimmering in the setting sun crowded boom towns await their arrival but the riches have already been won though forty-niners search in vain for the few small veins of gold nestled in the land of lincoln i've struck far more precious goods i'll be back for you my treasure carried swiftly on the amber sea a priceless diamond nestled amongst coal and yet you wait for me some pan for a lifetime but i'm already rich just an average guy who got lucky along those long wagon trains out west