Oh,
a few old friends, they're gathering
Down by the
tavern fire
When in death walked a padlock
Who comes round
once again
He overheard them talking
All about their quest for gold
There's a curse on it, cried the paddler
Also, I have been
told
They paid no heed to his warning
And they spent their money free
They deal out cards and
smoke out the words
They play so fearlessly
See a smile on the winner's face
Oh, the loser, he does not cry
He puts his head to the brandy
Cos he knows his luck's run
dry
Was he riding on a white horse
That never touched the ground?
Left the others searching
For the things that can't
be found
So through that night,
they stay to find out just who the winner plays
And the dealer, he gets impatient
Cos the game went on for days
Then a piece of bright yellow metal
Appeared before their eyes
We made gold, oh, we made gold,
you see, at
La
Lange
They took the prize with
the greatest care
Down to their silent death
Where they performed their logic
Cause the truth they had to learn
They tried every cipher and reason
Not a trace of gold did they find
Then a flash and flame, oh,
and they were slain
But, ah, their bones did shine
Was he riding on a white horse,
that never touched the ground?
Let the others sell shame for the thing s that
can't be bought
The most glorious of sunsets
in heaven ever round
Was staged to show these lonely dead
Who didn't understand
To see how the moon feels like flying
And watch till the stars disappear
And the peddler's gone,
off to another town
But he'll be back next year
Was he riding on a white horse that
never touched the ground?
Let the others searching
for the things that
God made fine
you