Keith Garrett

From yesterday is where i come from, my life is with a wife and child,

Seeking a new life and possibly a different place of settling down.

We are pioneers of the early nineteenth century traveling across

The hot desert where their is much hardship, sickness, and hunger,

There’s a chance i must take as my son is very sick with fever this day.

I say goodbye to all in our wagon train for now as i say perhaps there

Over the hill i will find help, faith walks with me as i begin my quest,

Over the hill to a different world as i pass over the top of the ridge.

Am i dreaming as these impossible things appear before my tired eyes,

The wagon train is gone, vanished into the air, this can’not be.

I see traveling machines, music, and that which can’not possibly exist,

People so different, i’m looked at so strangely as i tell of my plight.

My son is sick i say, He’s over that hill, a kind woman she was,

A bottle, something inside, these will make him better i’m told.

I must go now, I run for the hill, i climb as this world is not mine,

At the top i now see again my world and wagon train, i look back.

The world i walked into is now gone, only desert left behind, my son does not die .