I may not have a mansion, I haven't any land
Not even a paper dollar to clinkle in my hand
But I can show you morning on a thousand hills
And kiss you and kiss you on a thousand hills
And give you seven death holdings
I do not have a fortune
To buy you plenty things
But I can weave you moonbeams
For decreases and things
And I can show you morning
On a thousand hills
And kiss you and give you seven death holdings
Oh, seven golden death holdings
All shining in the sun
To light our way to evening
When our day is done
And I will be there
I will give you music
And a cast of glass
And a pillow of piney boughs
To rest your head
A pillow of piney boughs
To rest your head
