Echoes of lives' dreams drift unheard,    Tumbleweeds roll down empty, forgotten streets,    Lonely wind whines, accompanied by an old shutters' creak,    Hopes, plans, and schemes long gone, left with an old miner song, Loggers, Ranchers, Miners, Gamblers moved on....      Abandoned dwellings struggle vainly to stand,    Windows empty, vacant eyes to the past,    Ever endless seasons come and pass,    Inexorably wearing away that left by mans' hand,    Yet these echoes requiem remain with each of us, one and all....