Song | The Funeral - Single Version |
Artist | Hank Williams |
Album | Beyond The Sunset |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
I was walking in | |
Savannah past a church, decayed and dim | |
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn | |
My sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew' | |
Til I found myself environed in a little colored pew | |
Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow nearly wild | |
On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child | |
I could picture him while living, curly hair protruding lips | |
I'd seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips | |
Then rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk | |
With a manner sort of awkward and countenance grotesque | |
The simplicity and shrewdness in his | |
Ethiopian face | |
Showed the wisdom and the ignorance of a crushed, undying race | |
And he said, "Now don't be weepin' for this pretty bit of clayFor the little boy who lived there has done gone and run awayHe was doing very finely and he 'ppreciates your loveBut his sho nough father wanted him in the big house up aboveThe Lord didn't give you that baby, by no hundred thousand milesHe just think you need some sunshine and he lent it for a whileAnd he let you keep and love him 'til your hearts were bigger grownAnd these silver tears you're shedding now, are just interest on the loanJust think my poor dear mourners creeping long on sorrow’s wayWhat a blessed picnic this here baby got todayYour good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fella roundIn the angels 'tender garden of the big plantation groundAnd his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he viewBut a tear came and he whispered, " | |
I want my parents too"Then the angel's chief musicians teach that little boy a songSays if only they be faithful, they'll soon be comin' 'longAnd so my poor dear mourners, let your hearts with Jesus restAnd don't go to criticizn' the one what knows the bestHe has give us many comforts He's got the right to take awayTo the Lord be praised in glory, now and ever, let us pray |
I was walking in | |
Savannah past a church, decayed and dim | |
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn | |
My sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew' | |
Til I found myself environed in a little colored pew | |
Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow nearly wild | |
On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child | |
I could picture him while living, curly hair protruding lips | |
I' d seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips | |
Then rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk | |
With a manner sort of awkward and countenance grotesque | |
The simplicity and shrewdness in his | |
Ethiopian face | |
Showed the wisdom and the ignorance of a crushed, undying race | |
And he said, " Now don' t be weepin' for this pretty bit of clayFor the little boy who lived there has done gone and run awayHe was doing very finely and he ' ppreciates your loveBut his sho nough father wanted him in the big house up aboveThe Lord didn' t give you that baby, by no hundred thousand milesHe just think you need some sunshine and he lent it for a whileAnd he let you keep and love him ' til your hearts were bigger grownAnd these silver tears you' re shedding now, are just interest on the loanJust think my poor dear mourners creeping long on sorrow' s wayWhat a blessed picnic this here baby got todayYour good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fella roundIn the angels ' tender garden of the big plantation groundAnd his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he viewBut a tear came and he whispered, " | |
I want my parents too" Then the angel' s chief musicians teach that little boy a songSays if only they be faithful, they' ll soon be comin' ' longAnd so my poor dear mourners, let your hearts with Jesus restAnd don' t go to criticizn' the one what knows the bestHe has give us many comforts He' s got the right to take awayTo the Lord be praised in glory, now and ever, let us pray |
I was walking in | |
Savannah past a church, decayed and dim | |
When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn | |
My sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew' | |
Til I found myself environed in a little colored pew | |
Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow nearly wild | |
On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child | |
I could picture him while living, curly hair protruding lips | |
I' d seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips | |
Then rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk | |
With a manner sort of awkward and countenance grotesque | |
The simplicity and shrewdness in his | |
Ethiopian face | |
Showed the wisdom and the ignorance of a crushed, undying race | |
And he said, " Now don' t be weepin' for this pretty bit of clayFor the little boy who lived there has done gone and run awayHe was doing very finely and he ' ppreciates your loveBut his sho nough father wanted him in the big house up aboveThe Lord didn' t give you that baby, by no hundred thousand milesHe just think you need some sunshine and he lent it for a whileAnd he let you keep and love him ' til your hearts were bigger grownAnd these silver tears you' re shedding now, are just interest on the loanJust think my poor dear mourners creeping long on sorrow' s wayWhat a blessed picnic this here baby got todayYour good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fella roundIn the angels ' tender garden of the big plantation groundAnd his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he viewBut a tear came and he whispered, " | |
I want my parents too" Then the angel' s chief musicians teach that little boy a songSays if only they be faithful, they' ll soon be comin' ' longAnd so my poor dear mourners, let your hearts with Jesus restAnd don' t go to criticizn' the one what knows the bestHe has give us many comforts He' s got the right to take awayTo the Lord be praised in glory, now and ever, let us pray |