All night I've wrestled Jacob's angels   And prayed with Matthew, Luke and John   Struggling to find the words you face the task   That comes upon the blood red dawn.      I've buried men before their time   Of alcohol and blackened lung   But how to bury seven of these   Appalachian miners sons.   Who stormed the beaches wave on wave,   And sailed home to these rocky graves   In family plots that bared their names.      Tomorrow I'll walk up, seven hillsides   Tremble before my flock on seven hillsides   Seven sorrows, seven sons, seven mothers and every one   Will turn to me for the word of God, what does this mean?   And there I'll stand good book in hand,   A shepherd to these precious lambs   What will I say, what will I say, what can I say?      To tell the truth I'd never thought much   About the will of God before.   Called to preach at seventeen   I was in love with fiery words and not much more.   The time has come to keep the faith   For others shattered by their loss.   Remind them of the loving God   Whose son like theirs paid the cost.   To save a sad and wicked world   Through sacrifice our love is heard   And pray that I believe those words.      Tomorrow I'll walk up, seven hillsides   Tremble before my flock on seven hillsides   Seven sorrows, seven sons, seven mothers and every one   Will turn to me for the word of God, what does this mean?