I write this for you, my dear friend,

Born in the U.S.A. over fifty years ago was I.

The light of day was mine as only a child,

Cover me with a blanket as I am cold this moment.

Cross my heart that the road about to be taken will be long,

I’m countin’ on a miracle that there will be better days ahead.

Be true to yourself and that book of dreams may become real,

You can be your own worst enemy with bad decisions.

The souls of the departed are in heaven as they’ve made it all the way home,

Sometimes it’s just a roll of the dice to that which comes our way.

Blinded by the light but heard by me were the chimes of freedom echoing in the distance,

There are those who wear a brilliant disguise but the truth is they carry Inside devils and dust.

I was on a downbound train through Nebraska heading for Darlington County,

The Badlands were out there, I was thinking of Gloria’s eyes.

I stopped for the night to see the county fair, stayed at Mary’s place,

Thinking of my glory days being a local hero on my high school football team.

Before I left to go back home to Reno I stopped for a visit with Bobby Jean,

We spent some fun time drinking and dancing in the dark,

Eventually, the dreaming stopped and I went back to working on the highway.

Keith Garrett


2 thoughts on “LISTEN TO MY TALE

  1. I never played in a football team,
    I always was a nobody, even in my dream,
    my memories are from ages ago,
    Where I felt home and even know,
    What my home looked like…
    A hut in the wood not among a dyke.
    I cannot remember the winter, the cold,
    Just the crowd and the fire
    that kept me and I was hold
    by a rope till the last thing that I could see
    him, the traitor who delivered me,
    to the Inquisition, he felt no shame,
    only wanted me to carry the blame.
    As you can read my life is a tale too.
    One without an end and
    with nothing else to do
    as sharing my story with you.

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