Sometimes in fond mem'ry my thoughts go back to the old country church

That I attened as a boy

You know it's kinda funny how we cling to old bygone days and bygone places isn't it

Why it seems like only yesterday that my mother took my childish hand in hers

And led me slowly down that long winding path to hear the word of God

And I seem to sense his presence more strongly there than anyplace I've ever known

There with the singin' of the birds and the humming of the bees

I knew that God was surely there

I knew it just as sure as if he'd laid his hand on my shoulder

And said welcome to my house son

Ah but years have passed and times has brought many heartaches and many tears

I've seen my mother pass onto the great beyond and many loved ones have followed

And I'd seen them go with dispairing hearts and tear dimmed eyes

And now in later days as I stroll along

The grassy footpaths to the old country churchyard

And I view the final resting place of my departed kin

I'm consoled by the thought that their sleep is a happy one

There in the place where God and men are one

And once again I seem to hear the voice of our gentle shepher saing

Welcome welcome to my house my son

Precious years with memory...