To be rich is to still remember
To treasure your first dime
To have a chance to say farewell

Story of your life, time of solitude and strife
Freedom of an open road
Hoping many miles to go
Promises to keep,
Countless gold fields to reap
To be rich is to seek
To relive the memory

Far off lands, quests of old
Self-respect [bad word] grit
Never cared what a fortune might buy
To seek is to be rich

Story of your life, time of solitude and strife
Freedom of an open road
Hoping many miles to go
Promises to keep,
Countless gold fields to reap
To be rich is to seek
To relive the memory

All the strangers on your path
Crossroads the letters from home
The cooling embers of a Yuletide hearth
All the songs of wilderness
The [bad word] in which you roamed
They’re your lost troves but that’s what you recall

Story of your life, time of solitude and strife
Freedom of an open road
Hoping many miles to go
Promises to keep,
Countless gold fields to reap
To be rich is to seek
To relive the memory