Silver

Look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Consider it a crown the holiest may wear It ain't easy raisin' babies when they grow like ragged weeds It's a miracle she carried any shred of sanity But she read her stories and forgot the glory of a multitude of saints With her mother with, and her medicine, and her absent vanity Look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Consider it a crown the holiest may wear Behold the mark of her wisdom, make it your daily prayer To look upon your mother and the silver in her hair On the western side of the highway, near the feet of Tennessee A woman like a pistol and half my family tree When the circle grew by more than two, the sawmill could not buy Everything you need with four mouths to feed while you're barely gettin' by Look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Consider it a crown the holiest may wear Behold the mark of her wisdom, the sign of trouble fair To look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Last night in my slumber came the matriarchs I miss They said, "Do you wanna be anointed with age's lasting kiss?" They're pulling out a token of the life you've fully lived This cord we share, unbroken, to you we freely give Awoken in the morning, arisen from my bed I found upon my pillow a single shining thread (Two, three, four) Look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Consider it a crown the holiest may wear Behold the mark of her wisdom, make it your daily prayer To look upon your mother and the silver in her hair Her hair, in her hair