Out of the Fire
On a gravel back-road, down deep in the
FallSo long ago, yet how well
I recallMy
Grandfather's green truck with the rusted-out rimsand me on the seat, 'tween my
Mamma and him
How we rattled along, 'till the old
Ford, it stalledand
Momma said "Jump on out, pick you a big cotton ball"
An Autumn leaf scraped its way 'cross the roadwe were headed back home.
See the proud, thrusting, curve of the robin's red breastout gathering worms to return to her nest,the lavender haze at the first light of dawn,a woman's clear voice lilting in song,and all the fine words our poets have said,the sparkling dew upon the spider's silk web!
Does one matter more?
Does one matter less?
Who of us can say?
The tents are rolled up, the
Revival's left townall that remains is the fine sawdust groundstill wet from the tears that fell from the eyesof folks too far down to hang back in pride
And I am here, too, like
I always was:deep in the pain, strong in the lovestill singing my prayer to
Heaven aboveheartfelt and true.
Once you were the dawn, the dusk, and the light
Without the dream of holding you tightmy days turned to black,
I could hardly take breath
I stumbled my way thru a fate worse than death
But like the
Phoenix that rose right out of the fire,
I came back too, from a bed of desireand shook from my wings the ash from the pyre,and headed back home.
Out of the FireLRC歌词
On a gravel back-road, down deep in the
FallSo long ago, yet how well
I recallMy
Grandfather's green truck with the rusted-out rimsand me on the seat, 'tween my
Mamma and him
How we rattled along, 'till the old
Ford, it stalledand
Momma said "Jump on out, pick you a big cotton ball"
An Autumn leaf scraped its way 'cross the roadwe were headed back home.
See the proud, thrusting, curve of the robin's red breastout gathering worms to return to her nest,the lavender haze at the first light of dawn,a woman's clear voice lilting in song,and all the fine words our poets have said,the sparkling dew upon the spider's silk web!
Does one matter more?
Does one matter less?
Who of us can say?
The tents are rolled up, the
Revival's left townall that remains is the fine sawdust groundstill wet from the tears that fell from the eyesof folks too far down to hang back in pride
And I am here, too, like
I always was:deep in the pain, strong in the lovestill singing my prayer to
Heaven aboveheartfelt and true.
Once you were the dawn, the dusk, and the light
Without the dream of holding you tightmy days turned to black,
I could hardly take breath
I stumbled my way thru a fate worse than death
But like the
Phoenix that rose right out of the fire,
I came back too, from a bed of desireand shook from my wings the ash from the pyre,and headed back home.
