The Roses

High above the valley of Quito
An old man and his bride grow roses
Red and yellow, white and golden
To him they are precious as children
Their daughter, she moved to America
One more brick in the tower of Babel
She has a son that they've never seen at all
They're praying that they raised her well
On the mountain high
They will live and die
As time just slips away
And the children grow
In the God they know
As time just slips away
A man, his bride, his children, and his roses
Planted in faith, watered in tears
Honey, that's all they have and they're happier here
Than any of our friends back home
They met Jesus, and they really know Him
On the mountain high
They will live and die
As time just slips away
And the children grow
In the God they know
As time just slips away
Now I'm back at home, all alone,
And I'm trying to find my thoughts
That old man's so inspiring,
But the TV's always on
And the phone, it won't stop ringing,
These bills, they keep on screaming
They're paying for all the things
That we never really needed
And I wonder what he's doing right now
Maybe walking through his simple field,
And thinking about how
God has blessed him so
A man, his bride, his children, and his roses
On the mountain high
They will live and die
As time just slips away
And the children grow
In the God they know
As time just slips away...