PICKS

Picks Picks are things familiar to me One I use for my guitar we agree One was a woman I love from afar Who set for my life too high a bar She picked Jesus and I picked song Her hope of glory and another man so strong For her faith is belief in what can't be seen And mine was on singing in old blue jeans She wears a covering that hides her hair I wear a Stetson and sometimes swear Bows in the mornings and says her prayers Talks to Jesus about me, says he cares Reads from a list of those in need She speaks to another man for me She picked Jesus and I picked song Her hope of glory and another man so strong For her faith is belief in what can't be seen And mine was on singing in old blue jeans I sing the words to some old country songs Sometimes about Jesus or times went wrong I'll pick a few cords of love from a far About another man loved over my guitar You will see her moving quietly about A world of silence that never shouts On bended knees and folded hands Mother Mary loves my best fan I'll just be remembering her blond covered hair How it flowed in the mornings on the cool mountain air Our lives don't pass by much anymore My travels take me far away from holy doors Singing in the evening with a rowdy band About times went wrong without that other man She picked Jesus and I picked song Her hope of glory and another man so strong For her faith is belief in what can't be seen And mine was on singing in old blue jeans