Trouble In The Amen Corner

Rock of Ages clef for me let me hide myself in Thee

It was a stylish congregation you could see they had been around

And they had the biggest pipe organ of any church in town

But over in the amen corner of that church sat Ol' Brother Ire

And every Sunday he insisted on singing in the choir

His voice was cracked and broken age had touched his vocal chords

And nearly every Sunday he would get behind and miss the words

Well, the choir got so flustered the church was told, then fine

Brother Ire must quit his singing or the choir is going to resign

So the pastor appointed a committee I think it was three or four

They got in their big fine car drove up to Ire's door

They found the choirs great trouble sitting there in a big armed chair

The summers golden sum beam lay up on his snow-white hair

Said York, "We're here with the Vestry's approbation

To discuss a little mater that affects the congregation

Now it seems your voice is interfering with the choir

So if you will just lay out are you listening, Brother Ire?

The old man raised his head a sign he did hear

And on his cheek the three men caught the glitter of a tear

His feeble hands pushed back the locks as white as silky snow

And he answered the committee in a voice both soft and low

"I wonder if beyond the tide that is breaking at my feet

In that far off heavenly temple where my Master I shall meet

I wonder if when I try to sing the songs of God up higher

Will they kick me out up there for singing in Heavens Choir?"

A science filled the room the old man bowed his head

The committee went on back to town, but Brother Ire was dead.

The choir missed him for awhile, but it soon forgot

A few church goers watched the door, but the old man entered not

From far away his voice is sweet now and he sings his hearts desires

Where there are no committees and no fashionable choirs

Rock of age's clef for me let me hide myself in Thee