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