1849 (Far From Finished)

Welcome to California son This is where men are made Grab yourself a pick and a shovel If you’ve got the will We’ve got the way In eighteen forty-nine you saw the gold with your own two eyes You scavenge for something that shines like the son You ravage through dirt and the greed and the blood You came for the metals now you’re remembered in stone You can’t see the sun is going down on you You’re a crook you’re a gambler it’s all for their sake You lost it all you gave them all they could take Don’t know where you are you don’t know where you’ve been It’s a race ‘till your death that you’ll never win It’s a place and a time you’re bought and sold You’ll see that you’re not worth your weight in gold Is this your better way You watch the California sun go sinking down into the bay Is this your better way You watch the California sun steal all your dreams away The saloons and the gambling the whore house hotels They’re lit up all night by their own private hells Now a broken man so far from his home It now comes to this he stands drunk and alone Without a dime to your name or one ounce of fame It’s time to die now who do you blame