"Go Rest High On That Moutain"
By Vince Gill
_______________________________
I know your life
On earth was troubled
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to the rain
Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and Son
Oh, how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve
I wish I could see the angels faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing
Go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a shoutin'
Love for the Father and Son
Friend, when your friend died
Sitting beside his narrow bed,
His labored breathing kept you restless,
Woke youe when he sighed and stopped,
You held him through the bitter dawn,
and in the morning,
Dressed him, combed his hair,
Your tears welled, but you didn't weep,
Until at last he lay among the wild iris in the sod.
His soul gone inexplicably to God.
But friend, when your friend died,
Sweet Jesus he died hard,
A motor beside his sterile cot,
Groaned, hissed and whirred.
While he sang his pain,
Low notes, high notes in slow measures,
Slipping through the drug cloud,
Your tears, relundantly dropped slow,
Like glucose or blood from a bottle,
And when he died, your eyes were dry,
And Angels wearing white coats turned away.
by Terri L. Russell
Copyright 1989
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Page made 11/19/2000
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