Strip away the bar and gun shop
Strip away the lonesome telephone lines
Strip away the faded blacktop
Strip away these things, I’ll tell you what you’ll find
A beautiful land with the hills all around
Where the mountaintops reach for the billowing clouds
The touch of God’s hand is the whispering sound
Of the wind through the leaves and the dawn’s misty shroud
My coat still holds her perfume
The carseat a few strands of her hair
I see my red eyes in the rearview
I’ve been driving through the high country air
Through the beautiful land with the hills all around
Where the mountaintops reach for the billowing clouds
The touch of God’s hand is the whispering sound
Of the wind through the leaves and the dawn’s misty shroud
In the stillness of the morning
In the absence of a practical plan
In the wake of my transforming
From a loved one to a stranger again
Lies a beautiful land with the hills all around
Where the mountaintops reach for the billowing clouds
The touch of God’s hand is the whispering sound
Of the wind through the leaves and the dawn’s misty shroud
A beautiful land
-from Beautiful Land, by Bill Deasy
http://birches17.blogspot.com/2005/04/bill-deasy.html
www.billdeasy.com
