| They started up the hill
|
| With their young lives exploding still
|
| They love to dream and run
|
| They had the grass and the trees and the sun
|
| They dreamed of the gold they’d find
|
| At the top of the hill as they climbed
|
| No one would ever doubt
|
| Their spirit and strength would run out
|
| But the hill was steep and long
|
| They never thought they’d be wrong
|
| It wasn’t a hill at all
|
| It was a mountain a thousand feet tall
|
| But with the gold still in their thoughts
|
| They used their young lives to climb and climb
|
| By the time they got up to the peak
|
| They were old and they were weak
|
| There was no gold that they could find
|
| It was all just in their minds
|
| They had dreamed and they had loved
|
| They found the grass and the trees and the sun
|
| They said «What do we do now?»
|
| Spend the rest of our lives climbing back down?
|
| Or we can treasure what we find
|
| And make it golden in our minds |