All night I've wrestled Jacob's angel, Prayed with Matthew, Luke, and John. Struggling to find the words to face the task That comes up the blood red dawn. I've buried men before their time - Alcohol, blackened lung But how to bury seven of these Appalachian miner's sons Who stormed the beaches wave on wave, Then sailed home to these rocky graves In family plots, that bear their name. - Tomorrow I'll walk up seven hillsides And tremble before my flock on seven hillsides. Seven sorrows, seven sons, seven mothers and everyone Will turn to me for the word of God, what does this mean? And there I'll stand, good book in hand Shepherd to these precious lambs, What will I say, what will I say, what can I say? - To tell the truth, I never though much About the will of God before. When called to preach at seventeen, I was in love with firey words and not much more. But the time has come to keep the faith For other shattered by their loss And remind them of a loving God Whose son, like theirs, paid the cost, To save a sad and wicked world - Through sacrifice our love is heard And I'll pray I believe those words. - REPEAT Chorus - 2X