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    Hank Williams
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    The Funeral

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    The Funeral
    Released


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      About "The Funeral"

      Lyrics for Hank Williams - "The Funeral"

      I was walking in Savannah past a church, decayed and dim
      When slowly through the window came a plaintive funeral hymn
      My sympathy awakened and a wonder quickly grew
      'Til I found myself environed in a little colored pew

      Out front a colored couple sat in sorrow nearly wild
      On the altar was a casket and in the casket was a child
      I could picture him while living, curly hair protruding lips
      I'd seen perhaps a thousand in my hurried southern trips

      Then rose a sad, old colored preacher from his little wooden desk
      With a manner sort of awkward and countenance grotesque
      The simplicity and shrewdness in his Ethiopian face
      Showed the wisdom and the ignorance of a crushed, undying race

      And he said, "Now don't be weepin' for this pretty bit of clay
      For the little boy who lived there has done gone and run away
      He was doing very finely and he 'ppreciates your love
      But his sho nough father wanted him in the big house up above

      The Lord didn't give you that baby, by no hundred thousand miles
      He just think you need some sunshine and he lent it for a while
      And he let you keep and love him 'til your hearts were bigger grown
      And these silver tears you're shedding now, are just interest on the loan

      Just think my poor dear mourners creeping long on sorrow?s way
      What a blessed picnic this here baby got today
      Your good fathers and good mothers crowd the little fella round
      In the angels 'tender garden of the big plantation ground

      And his eyes they brightly sparkle at the pretty things he view
      But a tear came and he whispered, "I want my parents too"
      Then the angel's chief musicians teach that little boy a song
      Says if only they be faithful, they'll soon be comin' 'long

      And so my poor dear mourners, let your hearts with Jesus rest
      And don't go to criticizn' the one what knows the best
      He has give us many comforts He's got the right to take away
      To the Lord be praised in glory, now and ever, let us pray

      SONGWRITERS:
      WILLIAMS, JOHN T.
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