Kentucky Rose

Sun comes up, Sunday morn

On the little church where I've been since I was born

And there he stood, a hearty smile

You could hear his voice ringin' out for a country mile



And he could place your mind at ease

With his tenderness and a heart that aimed to please

A papa's hands, a farmer's clothes

Just a preacher man we called Kentucky Rose



He worked the soul like he worked the land

He spoke in ways anyone could understand

Simple words of simple faith

And when it came to love, he would go out of his way



A helping hand, a soothing chat

And he practiced what he preached, imagine that

And as far as kindess goes

There was none compared to old Kentucky Rose



Evenings stroll crossed shadows bridge

Cause when he saw the boy tramping on that rocky ridge

He knew the danger that he would face

It's as if he saved the child only to take his place



For on that ridge of stone and ice,

Kentucky met his maker in a sacrafice

Why he's gone, God only knows

Maybe for the company of his Ketucky Rose



So peaceful in his Sunday best,

He was buried on a hill and laid to rest

When people heard,they came in droves

To say their last goodbyes to sweet Kentucky Rose



Now on that hill one flower rose

They say it is the spirit of Kentucky Rose

They say it is the spirit of Kentucky Rose

I believe it is the spirit of Kentucky