On a gravel back-road, down deep in the Fall So long ago, yet how well I recall My Grandfather's green truck with the rusted-out rims And me on the seat, 'tween my Mamma and him How we rattled along, 'till the old Ford, it stalled And Momma said "Jump on out, pick you a big cotton ball" An Autumn leaf scraped its way 'cross the road We were headed back home. See the proud, thrusting, curve of the robin's red breast Out 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 town All that remains is the fine sawdust ground Still wet from the tears that fell from the eyes Of 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 love Still singing my prayer to Heaven above Heartfelt and true. Once you were the dawn, the dusk, and the light Without the dream of holding you tight My 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 desire And shook from my wings the ash from the pyre, And headed back home.