All Blues Hail Mary

From the mountain comes a soul

And the stones grow up like trees

From the mountain comes a soul

And the stones grow up like trees

All blues hail Mary with her roses

But you're their masterpiece

Cut away each blade of grass

Our feet cannot tramp down

The limb of every hanging tree

That time's left hanging round

All blues sing that love is light not glory

And a story, not a crown

I won't be death's sad trophy now

While I still lie awake

I won't be death's sad trophy now

While I still lie awake

All the blues sing of love and death and you

As chances yet to take

How dark this bit of light so late

That falls across your breast

How dark this bit of light so late

That falls across your breast

All blues and the grace by God and the

I will have to

I will have to learn the rest