Me and Dustin grew up in the woods out behind Hillcrest Street

Spent our time riding bikes and catching tadpoles in the creek

I'll never forget that summer day, when we were digging in the Texas clay

Millionaires at 10 years old, when we struck gold

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I was going to buy that Pudge rookie card from my buddy Klint

We would own all the woods once all the money was spent

our little red wagon was full with all that we could pull

as we washed it off by hand, we watched our dreams melt back to sand

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It's meaningless says Solomon

A chasing after the wind

All the vain things mean nothing in the end

but time tells all, and when the truth unfolds

I've always been a fool for fool's gold

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We hit the road once we turned 18

said goodbye to our friends to chase a rodeo dream

Another town, another night, It began to consume our lives

We wanted stories for when we were old, and a buckle made of gold

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A few years later, we both had buckles on our belts

We paid the price for any accomplishment that we felt

But now I've got a job and I had to retire, and my buckle doesn't fit my real world attire

and what I worked so hard for now sits in my dresser drawer.

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It's meaningless says Solomon

A chasing after the wind

All the vain things mean nothing in the end

but time tells all, and when the truth unfolds

I've always been a fool for fool's gold

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One thing that I've learned from mine and Dustin's escapades

Is that it's all fool's gold, every dollar I've ever made

but still I keep my nose on the grind, trying to make an extra dime

Knowing in the end, it'll all turn back to sand

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It's meaningless says Solomon

A chasing after the wind

All the vain things mean nothing in the end

but time tells all, and when the truth unfolds

I've always been a fool for fool's gold