two partners went in search of gold as friendly as could be
one was young and one was old and the gay young fool was me
since neither one could write his name we swore upon our souls
to share the wealth and then shook hands
the hand that dug for gold

the summer days were gone at last and winter nights grew cold
the snow had trapped us in the pass when we finally found the gold
we took our fortune to the shack to wait the winter through
but the food ran low so I killed my friend
what else was there to do?

I threw his body just outside into the bitter cold
somehow I had to stay alive, I now had all the gold
but the howling wind just seemed to say "you have killed a man"
and you'll never get to spend the gold
with blood upon your hands

the cabin's covered now with snow and shelves of food are bare
Satan's waiting for me now but I'm too cold to care
is that the devil at the door comin' for my soul
or is it just the old man
that comes looking for his gold?
                                                     danny dill