In the year of the famine
When starvation and black death raged across the land
There were many driven by their hunger
To set sail for the Americas
In search of a new life and a new hope
Oh but there were some who couldn't cope
And they spent their life
In search of fool's gold
The old prospector he makes it to the four lane highway
His old compadre lays dead in the sand
With outstretched hands he cries, 'Are you going my way?'
The people passing by didn't seem to understand
Broken Joe just lying in a gutter
He's gone as low as any man can be
He calls for wine but they'll only serve him water
The bartender says, 'We don't sell sympathy'
He tells a strange story about his father
How Sunday morning they'd go down to the church on the corner
As time grows older his thoughts they grow younger
It is his wish to search no longer
The vulture sits on top of the big top circus arena
He's seen the show before, knows someone's going to fall
Just near the part where the beautiful dancing tightrope ballerina
Forgets that the safety net isn't there at all
Down he swoops with claws drawn to take her
Razor sharp so savagely is she mauled
Oh my god, is there no one who can save her?
In steps the fox to thunderous applause
You'd better believe it
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