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Far into the Rocky Mountains Old (TIS278)

TheIdahoanShow
TheIdahoanShow - 248 Views
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248 Views
Published on 31 Oct 2020 / In Music

The Idahoan presents a parody of Tolkien's famous poem "Beyond the Misty Mountains Cold" in which he reimagines the context of the poem as a wagon train of prospectors about to head west in search of gold.

Lyrics:

Far into the Rocky Mountains old,
To canyons deep where streams run clear and cold,
We must away ere break of day
To search for prized elusive gold.

The mountain men their many-splendored tales tell,
Of cloud-capped peaks o’er flow’red meadow and forest dell,
And streams that flow down from the snow,
To valleys where we soon shall dwell.

Beyond the plains where buffalo in throng,
With wooly hide and horn of black and sinew strong,
Roam wild and free o’er the prairie,
Where the verdant grass grows long.

O’er vast deserts of creosote or sage,
Where whirlwinds like specters dance and rage,
Their savage blast we must outlast,
In mining ventures to engage.

We shall press on, though steep and rocky be the slope,
For in the mountains there lies our hope,
There treasures wait—it is our fate,
Through hardships of the wilderness to cope.

Far into the Rocky Mountains old,
To canyons deep where streams run clear and cold,
We must away ere break of day
To pan the streams and creeks for gold.

Where wildflowers their exultant blooms display,
In high meadows where deer and elk do play,
’tis there we ride whate’er betide,
Though long and perilous the way!

We must away our fortunes for to seek,
‘twixt rushing stream and towering mountain peak,
Where nuggets lie beneath the sky,
And veins reside in shining streak.

Where alpine lakes like jewels bright and clear,
The stately pines and snow-capped mountains mirror,
’tis there we aim to stake our claim,
Beyond the reach of civilization’s drear.

So lay in supply of provisions and tools,
Lade the wagons, and harness up the mules,
Belongings pack in chest and sack,
And off to find our gold and jewels!

Far into the Rocky Mountains old,
To canyons deep, where streams run clear and cold,
We must away, ere break of day,
To claim our share of placer gold!

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