He came from Tennessee with a Bible worn thin To preach salvation to the far-flung kin Thought the Lord would move like Sunday tide But found no steeple, just the bush and flies He set up camp where the red soil burned A gospel man with nowhere to turn His sermon rode the eucalyptus breeze No folding chairs, just rustling leaves He testifies to the wind, sings hallelujah to the sky If no one’s hearin’, still he'll try ‘Cause the Lord don’t promise comfort or plan Only the faith of a wayward man A kangaroo stared like some desert guide While he preached ‘bout love and the Crucified The clouds rolled back but gave no sign Still he sang to snakes and twisted pine He laid hands on stone, prayed in the heat Whispered revival to the dust and sleet “If grace means standin’ when you’re outta place, Then I’ll hold this faith in this foreign space.” He testifies to the wind, sings hallelujah through the haze Every wild ‘Amen’ echoes praise He’s the prophet of the unclaimed land Still preachin’ strong with a weathered hand
