Motherlode Mk I
Is there a place just over the hill where buffalo still freely roam
Where the land just waits to be tilled and the wind that blows speaks of motherlodes
Is there a place beyond the next rise where the grass still moans and the trees still sigh
Where a man could carve out a life a simple home and a fireside
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Is there a place beyond the next shore untouched by the hands of conquistadors
Will the natives welcome our laws, will they eat us alive or tend our lawns
Tend our lawns, tend our lawns, will they eat us alive or tend our lawns
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Is there a place beyond the next shore untouched by the hands of conquistadors
Will the natives welcome our laws, will they eat us alive or tend our lawns
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Cos we're just onwards ever on
Chasin horizons and racin the sun
Writer/s: Happy the Accidents
