(song lyric)
Pockets of Gold
Thomas Rockhill gazed at
The streets below,
At miners and murderers
He came to know,
He buttoned his coat
And he faced the cold,
To stroll through town
With pockets of gold.
He had pockets of gold
He had nerves of steel,
A hard-earned fortune
He had to conceal,
Didn't trust his luck
To the banks, were told,
So he walked through town
With pockets of gold.
Back then in Nevada in
Those White Pine Hills,
They drank their lunch
From a whiskey still,
Forty men died from
Murders untold,
But never the man
With pockets of gold.
He had pockets of gold
He had nerves of steel,
A hard-earned fortune
He had to conceal,
Didn't trust his luck
To the banks, were told,
So he walked through town
With pockets of gold.
p.s. In case you are a member of a Bluegrass, Folk, or Western group (or know someone who is) and might be interested in co-writing, please let me know. This lyric has already been recorded and released, but I have a lot that haven't. dennisgoodwin1947@gmail.com
Submitted: December 28, 2020
© Copyright 2021 Dennis L. Goodwin. All rights reserved.
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