Little Mountain Church House

There's a little mountain church in my thoughts of yesterday,
Where friends and family gathered for the Lord,
There an old fashioned preacher, taught the straight and narrow way,
For, what you call the congretation, could afford.

Dressed in all out Sunday best, we sat on pews of solid oak,
And I remember how our voices filled the air,
How mama sounded like an angel, on those high soprano notes,
And when the roll is called up yonder, I'll be there.

Looking back now, that little mountain church house,
Has become, my life's, corner stone,
It was there in that little mountain church house,
I first heard the word, I've based my life upon.

At the all day Sunday singing, and dinner on the ground,
Many were the souls that were revived,
While the brothers and the sisters, who've gone on to glory land,
Slept in piece in the maple grove nearby.

Looking back now, that little mountain church house,
Has become, my life's, corner stone,
It was there in that little mountain church house,
I first heard the word, I've based my life upon.

Looking back now, that little mountain church house,
Has become, my life's, corner stone,
It was there in that little mountain church house,
I first heard the word, I've based my life upon...


I drive by this church every day and I have always thought it to be quaint. You know how it is when you think one day I am going to stop and get some shot of this place. Then you finally do.