There is this old woman
She lives down the road
You can often find her
Kneeling inside of her hole
And I often ask her
"Are you looking for the mother lode?"
Huh?
No.
No my child, this is not my desire
And then she said
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
There is this old man
Who spent so much of his life sleeping
That he is able to keep awake for the rest of his years
He resides
On a beach
In a town
Where I am going to live
And I often ask him
"Are you looking for the mother lode?"
Huh?
No.
No my child, this is not my desire
And then he said
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
I'm digging for fire
