Campfire Gospel

Old porch boards keep the time tonight

Dust in the rafters starts to sing

A fire on the prairie threw names in the air One hand

on a bottle, one hand in a prayer A mother told a

railroad child where the old roads bend And every little tale she

saved made strangers kin again Storytellers roll like thunder through the grain

Passing down the hurt,

the mercy, and the rain What they carry shapes the way a

people stand From a front-stoop hush to the whole wide land A

riverboat preacher had a joke for every scar Coal-town kids learned courage

from a six-string in a bar Then a voice through a dashboard

crossed the county line by dawn And the words outlived the singers

when the singers all were gone Storytellers roll like thunder through the

grain

Passing down the hurt,

the mercy, and the rain What they carry shapes the way a

people stand From a front-stoop hush to the whole wide land From

cave-wall hands to a late-night radio glow

We borrow breath from voices we may never know

Every age leaves a lantern for another age to find And culture

is the trail of all that mercy in the mind Storytellers roll

like thunder through the grain Passing down the hurt,

the mercy, and the rain What they carry shapes the way a

people stand From a front-stoop hush to the whole wide land So

let the old words ride Till they find another fire