Guadalupe - Tom Russell

There are ghosts out in the rain tonight

High up in those ancient trees

Lord, I’ve given up without a fight

Another blind fool on his knees

And all the gods that I’d abandoned here

Begin to speak in simple tongues

Lord, suddenly I’ve come to know

There are no roads left to run

Now it’s the hour of dogs a barking

That’s what the old ones used to say

It’s first light or it’s sundown

Before the children cease their play

And when the mountains glow like mission wine

And turn gray like a Spanish roan

Ten thousand eyes will stop to worship

Then turn away and head on home

And she is reaching out her arms tonight

And, yes, my poverty is real

I pray roses shall rain down again

From Guadalupe on her hill

And who am I to doubt these mysteries

Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

But I am most in need of hope

She appeared to Juan Diego

And she left her image on his cape

Five hundred years of sorrow

Have not destroyed their deepest faith

But here I am your ragged disbeliever

Old doubting Thomas drowns in tears

As I’ve watched your church sink through the earth

Like a heart borne down through fear

And she is reaching out her arms tonight

And, yes, my poverty is real

I pray roses shall rain down again

From Guadalupe on her hill

And who am I to doubt these mysteries?

Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

But I am most in need of hope

I am the least of all your pilgrims here

But I am most in need of hope