The ghosts from these western lands
Are gonna rise up against
These English sands
Like a tumbleweed
On a reckless course
These barb wire fences
Can't keep us apart
Where are the heroes
That sang them old songs
You recognize a hero
'Cause he don't belong
We gave up our youth
And model railroad trains
Picked up guitars and
We changed our names
With experience of a tortured youth
You turn up the music and
Go in search of the truth
Times are gettin' tougher and there's no turnin' back
Times are gettin' tougher and those are the facts
They come by the thousands each and every day
They had no one to turn to so we turned them away
Put their brightest remarks on these dressing room walls
Now they waste away in nightclubs and dusty pool halls
Prospects were high till provisions ran low
Now they sleep beneath the moonlight under blankets of snow
A life is a high price to pay for these kicks
Stay outta the desert and keep off Route 46
It takes a young man's life and it probably will
Minin' for gold in those Hollywood Hills
Hear the screams of the souls through the hills of Palisades
Down in Rock Canyon they're diggin' up the graves
The old church is gone some fool set ablaze
Climb the top of Chautauqua check the lights of LA
All things are different though nothin' has changed
You can still find old empty beer bottles
In the brush that burned away
It takes a young man's life and it probably will
Minin' for gold in those Hollywood Hills