Behind a thick cloud of
Cigar
Smoke
They swore me to secrecy
And for years I
Kept
My
Word
Until my love appeared in
My life
And told me
I was wrong
I was wicked
I was going down a path
That would lead me to
Dismay
And when God needed her
More than
Me
I was left inside a big empty
House
Alone
With lots of
Coins
With lots of
Bottles
With lots of
Time to
Think
Behind a thick cloud of
Hazy despair
About
What really matters in this
Desperate world
And I knew there would
Come a day
Where I would rejoin
The community of
Man
When I would no longer play
This secret game
Taking me down a path
Where I was wrong
Where I was wicked
And all
Alone
So I take back my gold, Jon
So I take back my gold, Peter
So I take back my gold, Robert
So I take back my gold, Alan
So I take back my gold, Tony
So I take back my gold, Paul
From this day
And set the ball in motion
Whose end I do not
Know
Except that which I have told you
All I know
About
Gold.

A phone call
Stretched
Across
The largest ocean
Two men
Holding the key to
ALL
That unfolds
Do you really believe that
Gold
Matters?
The angry banker barked into my
Ear
Do you really believe that you will
Win?
So I placed a phone call
And
Demanded the
Return of
ALL
My
Gold
Knowing
Full
Well
That a man who owns gold
May not always
Win
But
Knowing
Full
Well
He is
Far less
Likely to
Lose

We sat inside a large conference room
The banker pulled a gold coin
From his coat
And called it a
Dollar
An American
Dollar
So I pulled a
Gold coin
From my
Coat
And called it
Gold
One coin stands
For
Fraud
What America has
Become
The other coin
Stands for
America
And
What it should
Be

We were driving
Down the long winding road
When the banker
Begged us to
Pull over
And he ran into the distance
Into the lush green
Propped himself against a tree
And threw up his dinner
Or at least tried to
The finest tenderloin
The most exquisite champagne
The sweetest souffle
Became fertilizer for the
Forest
Such is the power of
Gold
When a man needs it
Desperately
Yet has no chance in hell of
Obtaining a
Single
Ounce

Hopes bloom, hopes bloom
During the weeks of June

In the middle of the night
My wife
Screamed out
Loudly
And I lurched
Forward
Upright in our
Bed
And as I struggled to awaken
She cuddled closely to me
And with tears in her eyes
She told me of a nightmare
Of people losing fortunes
Of panic in the streets
Of fights over
Coins of
Gold
And I whispered soothing
Words
And tried my best to calm
Her
And she wanted me to
Interpret
Her
Scary midnight vision
To tell her all my
Theories
Of what causes
Nightmares
All about
Gold
But I have no special vision
No gifts of mysticism
And I could not unlock the
Meaning
Of her
Dark disturbing
Horror
The only thing I could tell
Her
With absolute conviction
Is that
Gold causes
Nightmares
For
The
Oppressors of
Man

Hopes bloom, hopes bloom
During the weeks of June

Last night
As we drove down the road
A woman ran past us
Screaming in pain
Blood spurting
From her breasts
And
From her back
Chased by a
Man
Holding
A
Big
Blood
Soaked
Butcher
Knife
I wanted to turn the
Car around
And help that poor woman
But when I looked
Back
She was on
The ground
The man
Stabbing her over
And over
And over
Again
It was too late to
Do
Anything
She was already
Dead
So when the man
From the bank
Asked to meet me today and
Discuss purchasing my
Gold
I felt the same feeling
Wash over me
As I felt watching that poor
Woman
I could meet with him
I could sell him my
Gold
I could sell him every
Ounce
But it was already too late for
Him
He was very badly wounded
And there was no point in
Turning around
I could not help but
Feel
Sad for the desperate
Man from the bank
But
It was too late to
Do
Anything
He was already
Dead

Hopes bloom, hopes bloom
During the weeks of June.

The man
With the shiny platinum cuff links
Arrived on a plane
Looking frazzled
As though he had
Not slept in nights
And when we drove away
Seated in the back seat of the long stretch limo
He turned to me
And stared earnestly into
My eyes and
Asked me
"My friend
Can we count on you to
Provide us your gold
If a squeeze comes?"
And as I looked into his
Hopeful eyes
I saw images of
Men in small mining towns
All across the land
Walking the streets
Going from door to door
Cap in hand
Looking for one hour of work
Looking for one ounce of dignity
Looking for one scrap of food to
Feed their frustrated families
These beaten down
Despondent
Children of Gold
Whose eyes
Were like empty graves
Devoid of hope
Unlike the eyes of
The man in the limo
Who called me "friend"
Whom I hardly knew
Whose eyes still filled with
Hope
And who I would
Return
Later that night
To his plane
His hands empty of my
Gold

Hopes bloom, hopes bloom
During the weeks of June

In ancient days
When the winds blew
People used to think that
Trees moved by
Themselves
Later
Man discovered that
Wind moves the
Trees
Then much later
Man
Learned
What makes the wind
Move
And so it is with
Gold
In ancient days
Man used to think that
Gold
Created wealth
Later
Man discovered that
Wealth created
Power
Then much later
Man learned how
Power controls the
Earth
And
Someday
Man
Will learn one of the
World's
Most important
Truths
Loving gold
Simply because it is
Gold
No matter what other
Men think
No matter
How they value it
Is the
Secret to
Power

Hopes bloom, hopes bloom, during the weeks of June

In a room filled with cigar smoke
Men sat and dined upon
Filet mignon and
Drank
Cristal and
Determined the fate of gold
Determined its final resting place
Determined its funeral date
Determined its eulogy
In a room filled with cigar smoke
Men decided to change the history of
Man
Determined to drive a stake through
Gold's
Divine
Heart
In a room filled with cigar smoke
Men challenged gold to a
Duel
And fired the first shot while gold
Looked away
In a room filled with cigar smoke
Those very same men
Without even knowing it
Buried themselves
Alive
In a cold hard tomb of
Gold

Run away, run away
From the last week in May

I received an
Invitation to
Fly to England
And
Bid for gold
They tempted me
With fantasies of buying
Gold
For a price
That would be a steal
But I would not fly
Across the ocean and
Join those men
Those robbers of gold
Because one thing I've
Learned in this life of mine is
That no man really ever robs
Gold
Instead
Gold robs men of their very
Souls.

Run away, run away
From the last week in May.

When you put strangers together
In a room to bid for ingots of
Gold
It is much like placing
Hungry cats inside a
Room
With a single plate
Loaded with pieces of cod
Sometimes the cats
Will defer to the king
Who takes the first bite or two
Finally letting the others join in
But
There is bound to come a time
Where the king is challenged
And a wild
Catfight breaks out
For the prized
Fish feast
And if the men at such auctions
Should ever become hungry cats
They will scratch and tear
Each other
Apart for the very last
Piece

Another black tie dinner
Surrounded by
More bankers
Who laughed at me when I
Told them about the virtues of
Gold
"Why do you want to hold that
Tired
Old thing when
There so many better
places to
Invest?"
And I could not help but
Think
That
Without realizing it
They spoke some
Truth
Gold is tired
Tired of a world
That puts more
Value on
Things
Worth less
Tired of rulers
Who take more
Return less
Tired of people
Who acquire more
And are
Satisfied less
Gold is tired
Half asleep
Yet ready to
Roar

Run away, run away
From the last week in May

If you do not cut your lawn
And your neighbors do
Then weeds grow
Into an untidy mess
And soon all your neighbors
Throw
Dirty looks your way
Because you are not playing
By the rules
Everybody obeys
So it goes with gold
If you do not reject gold
And despise gold
Like your neighbors do
Then you are not playing
By the rules
And soon all your neighbors
Throw
Dirty looks your way
If looks could kill then
Gold would be dead today
But no man's contempt can kill
Gold's
Eternal
Shine.

Run away, run away
From the first, second and LAST weeks of May

Will I survive?
The banker asked me
In the dark of
Night
Will gold destroy me?
He wondered
Biting nervously upon his
Lip
Yes
I answered
Although
You will live
In the ruins of your
Mind
In the waste of your
Dreams
In the stench of your
Despair
And spend an eternity
Wondering why you ever
Attacked
Gold

And I looked into the
Reflection of
Gold
And saw
Not a man
But a spirit
I did not
Recognize
And what a cold
Sharp Wind
It was
Wreaking havoc
Amongst
All
Those
Who
Harmed
Its
Name

They came to me
In the dark of night
And told me
Not to resist
And urged me to
Surrender to a
System that works
That keeps people fed
And keeps people working
And keeps people from
Tearing at each others
Throats
Or at least thats what they
Convinced themselves
While a world of fierce combatants
Wrestle and fight each other
For the real and vital goods
That keep them
Alive
They came to me because they
Thought
I would help
Smash
Gold
But gold cannot be obliterated
By any man nor any
Bank
Because
It spits in the face of
Man
And the face of
Time
It demands to be
Admired and
Prized
No matter how much
Man chooses to
Devalue it
There is not a piece of gold
In this world that has been
Destroyed
Forever changing shapes and
Forms
Like the lowly
Cockroach
It will survive long after
Man is
Gone

Run away, run away
From the third week of May

A late night call
Awakes me and I hear
Worry
On the other
End of the line
A call for help
Advice
What to do about
Gold
As if I really know
How to control it
Or how to prevent its
Ultimate
Rise
No man can keep it down
Forever
No bank can sell it
Into the ground
Where it sprang from
And from where it will
Spring again
Like a tiger locked within a cage
For years
Waiting to
Leap at the throats of those
Foolish enough to think
It can be held captive
From a greedy world
Impatient with desire
To set it
Free.

I met a man from a bank
Who laughed loudly as he told
Me
About the death of gold
But what he did not know
Is that a man from
Another
Bank
Laughed much louder as he
Told me
About the approaching death of the
Man
From the first bank
Not an actual death
But
A slow bleeding death of
Ruin and
Disaster
I did not
Want
To upset the head man from the
Second bank and
Let him know
That he was no longer
Alive
Anymore
That I was now talking to a
Corpse and that
Gold
Will
Never
Die.

Run away, run away
From the third week of May

They
Made a big
Mistake
When they went to battle
With gold
And used their big
Sticks
To smash it down
Like a wounded bear
Gold came roaring back
Bloodied and battered
But not
Killed
They should have gone straight for
Gold's
Heart
And destroyed her with the very first
Blow
But
Now
It's
Too
Late
The bear is howling and growling
And will never fall down
Gold lives and it means her
Assailants will
Die.

Run away, run away
From the third week of May

My neighbor had a stroke
Six months ago
And his wife came to me
And told me how
He could no longer sleep now that
Nightmares of death approaching
Kept him up all night
And he could no longer work
Too tired from lack of
Sleep
So I handed her a gold coin
And told her to place it
Under his pillow
Some time passed
And I ran into her at a
Party
And she thanked me for my help
And told me how her husband
Sleeps like an angel now
Bathed in sweet dreams
And awakes in the morning
Happy to go to work
"Tell me the secret"
She whispered into my ear
"Does gold make people dream?"
No
I told her
Dreams make
People
Gold.

Run away, run away
From the first, second and last weeks of May

I went to the opening of a
New store in town that sold
Grand pianos
Steinways and other
Expensive
Selections
The owner insisted that the
Best piano I could buy
Was a hundred thousand dollar
Gold colored beauty located in the
Center of the store
Yet the piano that caught my
Ear
Was an old dirty brown
Upright sitting in a corner in sad
Disrepair.
A young fellow played such soft gentle music
That could make any grown man
Cry
And the lesson I learned that night is
That it's the
Music and the
Music alone
That makes the piano
Gold

My gardener came to me
With a dead rose in his hand
And told me bugs had eaten the leaves
From all my roses
And he apologized for
Not taking good care of them
So I handed him a gold coin
And told him to plant it
With the roses
And the roses would bloom again
And he looked at me strangely
And asked me if gold keeps bugs away
And I told him the truth
Gold attracts bugs
Goldbugs
But it makes dead roses
All over the world
Bloom
Again.

Run away, run away
From the first, second, and last weeks of May

When they threw me a dinner
And gave me many honors
Like a tall gold statue
And rounds of applause
And flowery speeches
I'll never forget the
Biggest honor of
Them all
Not the statue
Made of
Gold
But a scholarship
In my name
For a poor child from
The wrong side of the tracks
With only one stipulation
That the chosen child
Send me a picture
The day of his graduation
A picture
With a smile
Made of
gold.

"Gold is so stupid"
My angry banker declared
Dug up from the ground
Then returned to
Storage vaults
Below the ground
"Seems so pointless"
"Seems so stupid"
So I told him
It reminds me of man
Who is formed from the
Produce of
The ground
Only to be
Returned to the ground
Stupid man
Just like
Gold.

They found another ship
Sunk beneath the sea
Filled with old gold coins
Thousands of them
"There is so much gold in this world"
Declared the angry banker
Who told me about the ship
Just discovered
"Too much gold in the world"
But don't tell that to the ghosts
Who fought wars
And killed
For that gold
They could never get enough.
Gold.
And don't tell that to
The people who found the ship
Who must now fight the governments
Who lay claim to that gold
Who say that gold is valuable
And belongs to
Them.
Alone.

Run away, run away
From the first, second, and last weeks of May.

A charity approached me
And asked me for a donation
To help their cause
They asked for land
They asked for stocks or bonds
They asked me for a big check
Instead I offered them
Twenty pounds of gold
"Could you sell it first?"
They asked
"And write us a cheque"
"Unfortunately We don't accept gold"
Funny how that works
So I had to tell them
The sad bitter truth
My gold
Does not
Accept
Them.

I met a man at a restaurant
A cellular phone pressed against his ear
And he told me about the death of gold
How things had changed
Now that technology is
The new gold
So I pulled out five gold coins
And laid them before the man
And watched the lust and greed
Appear in his eyes
Proof that
Gold is still alive
Forever

Run away, run away
From the first, second, and last weeks of May

"I have hated gold all my life"
Thus declared the man
Dressed in the grey suit
Working at the bank
"And I can't wait
Until it becomes
Worthless"
Yet gold hates nobody
It simply shines
And sparkles
So while men hate
Gold is silent
And always wins
In the
End

We sat together
And watched the sunset
Fiery red
Broken by
Bursts of
Gold light
And she turned to me
And asked how much gold
It would take
To buy the world
And I confessed
I did not know and
That the only thing
I know for sure
Is that the world
Buys
Gold.

My cleaning lady came to me
With tears in her eyes
So upset
And confessed she dropped a glass made from gold
But I told her not to worry
Since glass can break
But gold never can.

Run away, run away
From the first, second, and last weeks of May

Try an experiment
Drop a hundred fifty dollar bills
Into a crowd
And watch the frenzy
As people race to catch paper
And never really can
Then take a hundred gold coins
And drop them into a crowd
And watch the amazement
And the astonishment of
A crowd coompletely frozen
Stunned by the unearthly power of
Gold.

There will come a time
When a loved one dies
And you go to the cemetery
To say your goodbyes
And you see drab grey stones
As far as the eye can see
But there will always be a gold sparkle somewhere
One golden glitter amongst the grey field of stones
Gold draws you to it
Even when death surrounds you
Gold lives
In the emptiness of
Your
Dreams.

Not hard to imagine
Not hard to conceive

When you smell anger in this world
It can smell as sweet as gold
When you smell gold
You can smell its hot anger
Sweet. As gold.

I told my son a secret
About tomorrow
And the shadows
And Truth
And I made him promise to keep it
And treat it precious as gold
But he could not keep the secret
And told a bird
Who flew by my window
No longer a bird
But wings of gold.

Run away, run away
From the first, second, and last weeks of May.

A beggar approached me on the street
With eyes full of pain
And asked me for a dollar
Instead I gave him gold
And now he walks the streets again
With eyes as good as gold.

You see, it's fun, so fun.

I came across an alley cat
Whose eyes were like stars of gold
And I looked into those eyes
And I saw my own eyes reflected back
Gold eyes inside stars.
Gold.
Stars.

And a one and a two and a three
Who will believe it when gold is set free?
You won't, he won't, she won't
But I will.

My son asked me to plant a tree
As soon as possible
So I grabbed a small pine
And dug a hole
And planted it.
My son asked me what makes trees grow
So I placed an ounce of gold inside the hole
My son asked me if gold makes trees grow to the sky
And I told him the truth
Trees that grow to the sky are gold.

Run away, run away, run away,
From the first week, the second week, the final week of May

When will gold finally have its day?
Run away, run away
From the first, third and final weeks in May.

A child approaches his father and says,
"Dad what is gold worth today?"
The father reaches into his pockets
And pulls them out, revealing nothing.
The child asks, "So father you mean gold is worth nothing?"
The father responds, "No son, nothing is worth gold."

A butcher and a banker meet to discuss a loan.
The butcher wants to expand his shop.
The banker wants to expand his loans.
The banker offers the butcher $20,000.
The butcher offers the banker 10 gold coins.
The banker accepts and the butcher declines.