All of us in the mirror
Your clear voice
Her young voice
My sad voice
All of us in the background
Your clear voice
Her young voice
My sad voice
This old guitar turned me on
When I needed a new song
It found me out in the hall waiting my turn
Waiting to sing for a dozen dreams
Waiting to sing for all of us
For those who have ears to hear
For all of us the call is clear
In the mirror
In the background
The last sound was the Word
All of us in the old house
Your cotton shirt
Her twirling dress
My dusty skirt
This long road calls me home
Where will we settle down?
Circle the wagons. Husband and wives
Lift up your voices, children, sing-
While your mother plucks the strings
Lift up your voices, children, sing-
Before God the judgment brings
In the mirror
In the background
In the old house
The last sound
Was a Rising
Oh, oh, Lord