Prairie Funeral Acordes

	  
 
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It was a funeral on the prairie, all his children gathered round 
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Put him in a horse drawn wagon, drove him into town 
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In the dark of February snow covered up the ground 
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In a pioneer church made out of sod we sang A Mighty Fortress Is Our God 

 
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He was born in 1898 when the plains burned red and green 
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To God fearing pilgrim parents, the twelfth kid of thirteen 
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They broke up that ground yard by yard with a mule and an oxen team 
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Now we’re burying him out on the lone prairie where the coyotes howl and the wind blows free 

 
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Back at the house we pushed that big oak table against the wall 
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Built a fire in the cast iron cook stove, made room for one and all 
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The children and grandchildren piled our snow boots in the hall 
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The women worked like an oiled machine; the coffee boiled and the kettle screamed 

 
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Then the old folks took to telling tales of back when they were young 
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And it weren't too long before that four string banjo began to strum 
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Mom played the fiddle and my Uncle Lars played his accordion 
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The old farmers cried in their flannel sleeves when we sang that song from the old country 

 
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That was long ago and as the years go by I still forget he’s gone 
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But I look out on the open plains and I know his soul lives on 
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He’s the red sky mirrored on the lake, he’s the first cold light of dawn 
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He’s a coyote’s wail, he’s a winter storm, he’s the August wind blowing through the corn