Upon the worn trails of down trodden souls,
The fool, the sinner and the hopeful leave their woes.

On the path of salvation when many lost their way,
Other paths start to branch away.

A conestoga lays abandoned on the trail,
Where many idealists withered and failed.

The industrial city left behind in the dust filled wake,
No turning back from the journey,
You already chose your fate.

Where would you go in the months and weeks ahead?
Possibly to new Zion or make your own land to think that you'll be well on.

Beware of the adventure who is a fool to travel along,
So always journey together or die without a throne.

Who was it I? who took this trip?
My heart it don’t mind but you become my crush
You earned it by conversation and melting my eyes
There was a boy broken down like a tree shattered branches and stolen leaves
He spoke big words and I run around in snow
My aches and faints I black out more
Who? Pointing at you?
Zion and Israel we’ll take a trip or two
The lights keeps settling before the rain comes our way