Tell Me, Old Man
Sit down, old man, and tell me tales
Of way beyond my time;
When the world was fresh and air was pure,
And you were in your prime.
Tell me tales of pioneers,
Of brave men and their deeds,
Of barren land, of untitled soil,
Of man and of his needs.
Tell me of the heartbreak,
Of the triumph and the pain;
Of men who loved to live and work
Through sunshine and the rain;
Tell me more of simple men
Who fought the earth and won,
Of everyday heroes who lived out their days,
Their praises left unsung.
Tell of men who scaled the peaks
And forged the raging streams;
Of fabricated visions of
The land and of her dreams.
Speak to me of the gold rush,
The Mounties and their domain;
Of death-still trails where the only sound
Was the coyote's wild refrain.
Describe to me the people,
The good men and the bad;
Of the land that stretched from sea to sea;
Of the riches to be had.
Tell me all you know, old man,
For you have a gift, you see;
In your head are locked the tales
That make our history.
