Born in the heat of the desert, my mother died giving me life.
Pride of the love of a father, blamed for the loss of his wife.
You know, Lord, I've been in a prison for something that I've never done.
It's been one hill after another, but I've climbed them all one by one.
But this time, Lord, you gave me a mountain.
A mountain that I've made never twice.
And it isn't high any longer.
You gave me a mountain this time.
My woman got tired of the hardships.
Tired of the grief.


And the strife.
So tired of working for nothing.
Tired of being my wife.
She took my one ray of sunshine.
She took my pride.
And my joy.
She took my reason for living.
She took my small baby boy.
But this time, Lord, you gave me a mountain.
My mother died giving me life.
Pride of the love of a father, blamed for the loss of his wife.
You know, Lord, I've been in a prison for something that I've never done.
Pride of the love of a father, blamed for the loss of his wife.
And it isn't high any longer.
Pride of the love of a father, blamed for the loss of his wife.
You gave me a mountain, you gave me a mountain.
And it isn't high any longer.