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