Standing like some sentinels of some long and bygone war
A gateway of Ceder tress from home leads afar

They say the clocks run backwards times banners stand furl
And yesterday’s tomorrow back in Yonder’s world

As I awoke one morning in the ditch beside the way
Drowned in demonic dreams and the wine of yesterday

Thinking on my wasted life did my spirit go
When a team of horses I did spy coming over the road

Where are you traveling sir I did inquire
Where is your wagon bound and are you for hire

Your clothes are all ragged your shoes they are worn
Why did you gaze on me with amusement and scorn

I traveled through the swamps my boy and the mountains rusty red
A band across the great high plains my journey it has lead

Turn yourself around my boy in the strength of your youth
Set upon of lies but the pathway of truth

We meet up on this rutted road in the grey light of day
I’m travelling up and across the fields, you’re going the wrong way

Then speaking to his horses and lifting of the reins
He drove between the twisted trees to the jingling of the chains

To the summit of that grassy hill so swiftly I did go
And gazed across the ragged brush to the dusty road below

The wagon and the tired old man no where could I see
And I wondered if his Yonder’s world was cold eternity

Standing like some sentinels of some long and bygone war
A gateway of Ceder tress from home leads afar

They say the clocks run backwards times banners stand furl
And yesterday’s tomorrow back in Yonder’s world

Yes the clocks all run backwards times banners they stand furl
And a man might live forever back in Yonder’s world