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In Memory |
© Michael Peter Smith

Sometimes in weary solitude my loneliness declines
For it's then my best and dearest friends pass before my mind
And the times of laughter and glory and the times of peace and pain
And there's not one blessed hour of it
That I would not live over again

Sometimes your eyes get heavy and it's hard to see the truth
That the friends you take for granted are dearer far than youth
And the old, the old familiar faces that love you now just as you are
They will come back to you much later
In one blessed hour

Sometimes I think I'm flying high above my bed
Sometimes I hear the angels laughing inside my head
And if Jesus, if Jesus in his power could give me back my friends
Then one blessed hour would pass before these eyes again

One blessed hour
One blessed hour

Recorded on: Michael Smith/Love Stories

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