On my way to the Telluride sawmill today
I thought of an old friend who'd long gone away
He took to traveling when he turned seventeen
And I stayed at home with the family

A collector of dreams was my old friend
He talked about the times yet to come
But I took to working at the Telluride sawmill
And I've been there since I turned twenty-one

The river keeps rolling past the south county line
I'd love to roll with it, but I've run out of time
The days roll by like the logs at the river
And I know I ain't getting no younger

We were kids growing up in the Rockies
When the mountains were young and so free
He was my friend and my equal
Though in years he was younger by three

We grew up in the usual fashion
Never wanting to grow up at all
But I found a family and he found the rails
He left on the train for Saint Paul

The river keeps rolling past the south county line
I'd love to roll with it, but I've run out of time
The days roll by like the logs at the river
And I don't often think of my old friend

Mr. Preacher can you give me an answer
Lord, I can't go on this way 
I'm getting old and I don't feel so good
Have I just been wasting my time?

Telluride, Telluride
Have I just been wasting my time?