| We all four grew up together
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| In a small Virginia country town
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| And, for some strange reason… God only knows…
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| We got to singin' around
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| And about twice a year at the National Guard Armory
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| Or the old school house we’d go see
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| The Blackwood Brothers who were coming to town
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| To sing especially for me
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| They always drew a crowd of young folk and old women
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| And men with the mortgage on their homes
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| Farmers and teachers, rich men and preachers…
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| The old school house was full, and they would come
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| And we bought up every album, every picture, every single;
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| Their autographs were the only things free
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| But the main thing they were sellin'
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| Was Jesus and good singin'
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| In that old school house where the Blackwoods sang for me
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| And they would sing (and they would sing)
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| «Hide me, old blest Rock of Ages»;
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| Every day will be Sunday by and by
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| Heavenly love inside the gates
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| Give the world a smile each day
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| They were all peace like a river to my soul
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| That chilly Jordan (chilly Jordan)
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| And I want to be more and more like Jesus every day
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| Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham
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| At the old country church
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| «God made a way for me.», that’s what the good book says
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| How many times (how many times)
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| Have we heard them sing those songs?
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| So many times (so many times)
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| They’ve been our idols for so long
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| And, God, if there’s an old school house
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| In Heaven, let me be
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| Somewhere close where I can hear R.W. sing for me
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| The road… the road… the road of Calvary
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| And, God, if there’s an old school house
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| In Heaven, let me be
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| Somewhere close where I can hear the Blackwoods sing for me |