Member-only story
Some glad morning when this life is over
I’ll fly away
“I’ll Fly Away”, 1929, Albert E. Brumley
I know you been pressed
down so low
yeah, some sorrow was meant to be sung
down on the floor
with the walls closed in
nothing to cherish but fairy tale scars
every door closed
and shutters drawed tight
yeah, once they was open to let in the light
Music faint
as a sigh on the wind
rain as rare as angels’ tears
Photographs and memories
scattered like leaves
coulda been,
mighta been,
lord if only
Oh, we were haughty,
walked heedless and tall
now all our prides sloughed off, leaving us fragile and bent
Laughter discarded and rusted,
some days I can’t recall way life used to be.
Once the tide got to ebbing weren’t a thing to hold it
nor a soul with the will or the words to call it back
I’ll fly away, oh, Glory
I’ll fly away
