A Nevada Ballad The world is comprised of plates,
Which oft dictate geological fates,
When the Pacific plate subducts,
From the molten core it sucks,
A mineralised fluid so rich,
It finds the contintntal niche,
To deposit its lode of gold,
When the temperatures turn slightly cold,
Nevada is just such a place,
Now settled by the human race,
Canamex has found the vent,
Indeed it was Heaven sent,
So relax: in the fullness of time
We will have ourselves a gold mine.