Gord's Gold

From Orillia, Ontario, Canada

Comes a horseman, wild and free

Guitar slinger, songwriter

Poet of the Frozen Northland

If you could read his mind

What it could tell

Too silent to be real

But he was, and is

In the early morning rain

He took the ribbon of darkness off me

If only for a little while

Turned my mind into an endless wire

For if not for him, would no one know

of the fate of the Edmund Fitzgerald?

Better take care, Sundown

Not to insult him around me.

It'll be murder in the first degree.

Drink your glasses empty

In the name of this painter passing through in history

And let me dwell in the art of his imagination

With Dream Street Rose and The Pony Man

And the navvies who built the railway

For a dollar a day

And a place for their head

And let the big steel rail

Carry me home

To the ones I love

Because that's what you get 

For loving him