In a year that is not now
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From a place unknown
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I travel on the mountain roads
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Looking for someone
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Sewn inside my vest, a letter
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Tells me where and when
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In my purse a sacred dagger
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On my horse I run
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Restless girl beside the water
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Tending to a fire
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Kissed a boy and then another
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Suiting up for war
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Heard a broken band of gypsies
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Singing ancient songs
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Gave all my silver to a beggar
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Still he wanted more
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Oh the town of stone and timber
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Celebration reigned
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No one there seems to remember
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Why they carry on
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Crowded 'round a man of marble
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Speaking foreign tongues
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There the stone began to crumble
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And the crowd did moan
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In the unforgiving morning
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Caravans of shame
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Turn south to the dry land highway
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I turn to the sea
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Like a snake so quick and deadly
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Sleepless, coiled and cool
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The one I seek is making ready
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Waiting patiently
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Pity not the weary traveler
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He lives in his mind
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He is friend of wind and weather
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And from fire is born
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Pity then the cool betrayer
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Waiting patiently
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No precaution made will save him
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From the traveling storm
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The Traveling Storm
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| Robert Earl Keen |
