The fools They thought I was still listening to Darklands But as was my custom The melancholic beauty of Jesus and Mary Played at a whisper I had to hear the rest They’d left their loot under a tree Somewhere no wandering eye could see Except for me I sat in glee They were telling me and only me you see Down the river Over the bridge About 3 fields in And over a ridge And there it would be A solution to all my problems And end to all my woes Couldn’t work out Why though For a bag of cash you need to leave airholes