I’m just a San Gold miner, Lord, Up here in West Bissett; I rise and eat and toil and sleep, By the lake where first we met.

You can see the gold most everywhere, No matter where one looks, You can smell it, taste it, touch it, In the drifts and stopes and nooks.

The favourite colours in my life Are sliver, gold and grey, I love this mine and am quite content To drill my years away.

But sometimes when the autumn mist Drifts in from the Rice Lake night, Strange spirits whisper in my ears, And visions cross my sight.

I see myself a gracious youth, Dressed in white, black, brown and blue; My golden skates of knightly worth, Are custom built and new.

I skate like the wind, streaking down the wing, In my wonderful world of dreams; I turn and fake and shoot and score, To the sound of Winnipeg screams.

Our shareholders pray for gold, oh Lord, Some; millions of ounces per mile, But all I ask is a chance for fame, Just once, for a little while.

Grant me, before I pass beyond, While I blast this rich ore loose, To play right wing; just a game or two, For the Manitoba Moose.

Fred25