Granite Cathedrals

country rock, orchestral pop, country, folk

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Oh, take me high, where the eagles are born Away from the hustle, the hate and the scorn. Yeah, I’m climbing the skyline, leaving the crowd Where the silence of nature is the only thing loud. Up here in the wild, where the air tastes like wine I’m seeking the place where the money don’t shine.

The pavement turns dusty, the dust turns to stone My lungs start to burn, but I’m reclaiming my throne. Not a throne made of gold, but of granite and pine Where the roots of the ancient ones tangle and twine. Mother Earth holds me close in her rugged embrace She wipes all the city lines right off my face. Just the wind in the timber, the sun on the peak Listening to secrets that the wilderness speaks.

Tell the banker his greed has no power up here Tell the rich man his diamonds just disappear. There’s no price on the sunset, no tax on the rain Just the raw, freezing cold washing over my pain. Just six strings of wood and a heart beating free Singing prayers to the mountains, just them and me.

Now the twilight is falling, painting snow into fire I’m alone with the stars, my celestial choir. The world down below looks so small and so far Like a fading reflection trapped in a jar. I’ll stay for a while until my spirit is whole Let the high country healing seep into my soul.

Oh, take me high, where the eagles are born Away from the hustle, the hate and the scorn! Yeah, I’m climbing the skyline, leaving the crowd Where the silence of nature is the only thing loud. Up here in the wild, where the air tastes like wine I’m seeking the place where the money don’t shine.

Where the money don’t shine... Just me and the pines...  Yeah, the silence is mine.

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Down in the valley, the neon burns bright Chasing the paper from morning to night The traffic is screaming, a river of steel And nobody cares about how you truly feel. The walls are closing in, yeah, the air’s getting stale I’m tired of running inside of this jail. So I pack up my Gibson, my boots and my coat And I leave all the worries that keep me afloat. Oh, take me high, where the eagles are born Away from the hustle, the hate and the scorn. Yeah, I’m climbing the skyline, leaving the crowd Where the silence of nature is the only thing loud. Up here in the wild, where the air tastes like wine I’m seeking the place where the money don’t shine. The pavement turns dusty, the dust turns to stone My lungs start to burn, but I’m reclaiming my throne. Not a throne made of gold, but of granite and pine Where the roots of the ancient ones tangle and twine. Mother Earth holds me close in her rugged embrace She wipes all the city lines right off my face. Just the wind in the timber, the sun on the peak Listening to secrets that the wilderness speaks. Oh, take me high, where the eagles are born Away from the hustle, the hate and the scorn. Yeah, I’m climbing the skyline, leaving the crowd Where the silence of nature is the only thing loud. Up here in the wild, where the air tastes like wine I’m seeking the place where the money don’t shine. Tell the banker his greed has no power up here Tell the rich man his diamonds just disappear. There’s no price on the sunset, no tax on the rain Just the raw, freezing cold washing over my pain. Just six strings of wood and a heart beating free Singing prayers to the mountains, just them and me. Now the twilight is falling, painting snow into fire I’m alone with the stars, my celestial choir. The world down below looks so small and so far Like a fading reflection trapped in a jar. I’ll stay for a while until my spirit is whole Let the high country healing seep into my soul. Oh, take me high, where the eagles are born Away from the hustle, the hate and the scorn! Yeah, I’m climbing the skyline, leaving the crowd Where the silence of nature is the only thing loud. Up here in the wild, where the air tastes like wine I’m seeking the place where the money don’t shine. Where the money don’t shine... Just me and the pines... Yeah, the silence is mine.

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