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From the mountain comes a soul |
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And the stones grow up like trees |
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From the mountain comes a soul |
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And the stones grow up like trees |
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All blues hail Mary with her roses |
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But you're their masterpiece |
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Cut away each blade of grass |
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Our feet cannot tramp down |
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The limb of every hanging tree |
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That time's left hanging round |
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All blues sing that love is light not glory |
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And a story, not a crown |
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I won't be death's sad trophy now |
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While I still lie awake |
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I won't be death's sad trophy now |
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While I still lie awake |
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All the blues sing of love and death and you |
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As chances yet to take |
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How dark this bit of light so late |
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That falls across your breast |
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How dark this bit of light so late |
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That falls across your breast |
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All blues and the grace by God and the |
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I will have to |
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I will have to learn the rest |
