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 trees All blues hail Mary with her roses But you're their masterpiece Cut away each blade of grass Our feet cannot tramp down The limb of every hanging tree That time's left hanging round All blues sing that love is light not glory And a story, not a crown I 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 take How dark this bit of light so late That falls across your breast How dark this bit of light so late That falls across your breast All blues and the grace by God and the I will have to I will have to learn the rest
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 trees All blues hail Mary with her roses But you're their masterpiece Cut away each blade of grass Our feet cannot tramp down The limb of every hanging tree That time's left hanging round All blues sing that love is light not glory And a story, not a crown I 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 take How dark this bit of light so late That falls across your breast How dark this bit of light so late That falls across your breast All blues and the grace by God and the I will have to I will have to learn the rest
