Mark's dad is older now, but as he told Mark during a walk this summer,

"I'm still faster than an earthworm."



He's still faster than an earthworm

Slower than a sparrow

He lives on Preacher Hill

On a road that is so narrow

That the trees meet overhead

In a canopy of green

But the road is still hard gravel

And your dad is in between



His body does not suit him

It's frail and worn from age

They say there's cancer growing

Well, some things you take on faith

Like the time he was a boy

And saw the evening moon burn bright

He saw his future rising

In its path of light



And I hope that God's in heaven

Just the way He's here in Maine

The way He makes the stars sing out

The way you make it plain

That my two outstretched arms

Can comfort and console

When the dad you've loved for all your life

Finally has to go



Inside he's still the farm boy

Ohio born and bred

The man who whisked his bride away

The night that they were wed

They followed tracks to Boston

With little but a plan

And the vows of endless love they wore

As rings upon their hands



And as the years unfolded

For this preacher and his wife

Four children joined them one by one

Then left them overnight

With still no house to call their own

They went where land was cheap

On Preacher Hill in Norway, Maine

He'd bless the land they'd keep



Chorus

Who can say what compels a man to make a mark so deep

All I know is your father made a promise he could keep

So where there once stood trees so high, they touched the sky

Now here stands the house your father built with family by his side



So he buys us hot fudge