Traveling through an untamed land, I travel,

All that I own packed upon my horse and wagon.

There’s a lot of quiet time thinking and looking,

As the day ends I set camp, a fire, supper, and my horse.

Noises of the night are owls, crickets, or the wind,

Lucky am I to hold this guitar in hand.

Feed my horse and off to bed for a little rest,

A gun close by as I sleep with an open eye.

Just call me bob as when the sun rises I’ll be gone,

A hot cup of coffee, a bite to eat, and off I go.

The dusty trail takes me to many places of sight,

I travel by day then it’s time to stop for a much wanted, peaceful night.

Keith Garrett

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