gretchen peters
guadalupe
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've abandoned  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 When the mountains glow like mission wine  And turn gray like a Spanish roan Ten thousand eyes will stop to worship And turn away and head on home She is reaching out her arms tonight  Lord, my poverty is real I pray roses shall rain down on me From Guadalupe on her hill But who am I to doubt these mysteries Cured in centuries of blood and candle smoke I am the least of all your pilgrims here  I am most in need of hope She appeared to Juan Diego 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 watched your church sink through the earth  Like a heart worn down through fear She is reaching out her arms tonight Lord, my poverty is real I pray roses shall rain down on me From Guadalupe on her hill  But 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