| «There's gold, and it’s haunting and haunting;
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| It’s luring me on as of old;
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| Yet it isn’t the gold that I’m wanting
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| So much as just finding the gold
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| It’s the great, big, broad land 'way up yonder
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| It’s the forests where silence has lease;
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| It’s the beauty that thrills me with wonder
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| It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.»
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| The great, broad land 'way up yonder
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| Haunting him as of old
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| Yet, it ain’t the gold itself, so much as finding the gold
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| Farewell, White Agony Creek
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| Farewell, the three long years
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| Can’t leave behind what’s in this sled
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| Things we lost
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| The things we couldn’t share
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| Another rainbow’s end
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| Another memory
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| Fortuna favet fortibus
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| Hold on to all that’s dear to you
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| As the last sled to Dawson finally arrives
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| The stillness that fills him with peace
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| The beauty of the wild
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| Rainbow’s end with golden dreams
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| Starlit sky and coffee & beans
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| Farewell, White Agony Creek
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| Farwell, the three spring thaws
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| One day I will return to you
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| Things we lost
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| The things we couldn’t share
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| Another rainbow’s end
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| Another memory
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| Fortuna favet fortibus
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| Hold on to all that’s dear to you
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| As the last sled to Dawson finally arrives |