The Fields Of Love
Falling Star
Mark Bishop, Milton Smith
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
(prelude/recitation)
female voice/
"There are those who believe that God still hears, and answers, our prayers.
Some believe that he answers our prayers by changing our circumstances... while others believe, that it's not so much our circumstances that he changes... but that he changes us."
"Whenever a star, bold and bright, falls from heaven down to earth... I like to think that an angel is returning with the much-needed answer to someone's prayer.
Just like that star that's falling right now.
That's my star... and that's where this story begins."
. .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
These trees... are so beautiful in the spring, they bring...
the promise of new life. The birds will sing, through leaves of green.
And everything is all right.
This old farm... has seen four generations, and the ground
looks up to familiar faces. "Where have you been, since last harvest end?
Is it already time again? Let's begin."
Chorus/
We work the fields... the fields of love.
Put your heart and soul into it, you'll get back more than enough.
It takes the rain, it takes the sunshine, and they both fall from above,
to work the fields... the fields of love.
The farmer's wife... is calling from the front porch, "suppertime."
Always the believer, everyday... she always prays
that God will warm his cold heart...
Chorus repeat/
We work the fields... the fields of love.
Put your heart and soul into it, you'll get back more than enough.
It takes the rain, it takes the sunshine, and they both fall from above,
to work the fields... the fields of love.
Down on the farm... one April morn... a son is born.
The father cries... he has his eyes... but the mother dies.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
Twelve years old, ridin' in a pick-up truck. The windows are rolled down.
The farmer wipes his brow. The county fair's set up the other side of town.
"Don't wander far son. I need to check our livestock in the barn."
But all the things he sees are things he never sees when he's down on the farm.
Chorus/
It's a big, big world... and I'm so small...
When God looks down... how can he see us all?
He carries his mother's picture, in a locket on a chain.
He wears it next to the same heart that wonders if he's to blame.
He ought to cry but he can't remember anything about her.
Old enough to ask God why, but too young to get an answer.
Chorus repeat/
It's a big, big world... and I'm so small...
When God looks down... how can he see us all?
Twelve years old, and carnivals are made in heaven days.
(They say your) father's not the same man we knew, before your mother passed away.
So when good days come, you ride them as far as you can.
Across the field he sees a tent revival. He hears music from the band.
(rain and thunder)
He needs shelter from the rain, so that's where he ran.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
(applause)
Friends and neighbors gather round'...
Well it's time we sang the glory down!
Young and old, great and small...
You know Jesus loves you one and all!
So come on in and find a pew...
leave the world behind and you
will hear a song you won't forget.
Make welcome now...
The Shooting Star Quartet!
(applause)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
Little David was an upstart. Everyone said he's too small.
He's too little to be much good. But David's faith was ten feet tall.
David walked down in the valley. In his sling he placed a stone.
When Goliath laughed at David, David said "I'm not alone."
Chorus/
What could little David do? Go ask Goliath, he'll tell you.
In a fair fight, it's not fair... for the lion, for the bear.
(Little David... ) just a young boy.
Little David, not much at all.
(After he saw... ) God in glory,
poor Goliath seemed so small.
Faith in God can part the waters. Faith can guide the shepherd’s stone.
Faith can give sight to the blind man, or let the lame man walk back home.
Chorus repeat/
What could little David do? Go ask Goliath, he'll tell you.
In a fair fight, it's not fair... for the lion, for the bear.
(Little David... ) just a young boy.
Little David, not much at all.
(After he saw... ) God in glory,
poor Goliath seemed so... (first word of bridge)
Bridge/
Small, small chance... that little David would survive.
But when the dust had cleared, only one walked out alive.
Chorus repeat/
What could little David do? Go ask Goliath, he'll tell you.
In a fair fight, it's not fair... for the lion, for the bear.
(Little David... ) just a young boy.
Little David, not much at all.
(After he saw... ) God in glory,
poor Goliath seemed so small.
(applause)
(tent revival sounds fade under dialogue...)
"Son... I've been looking all over for you!"
"Dad... it started raining... I've been right here..."
"Come on... we're gettin' out of here."
(sounds of thunder... rain...)
"There's nothin' here for us, son."
"I've tried prayin' before"
(rain...)
"Best I can tell, God ain't listening"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
When those memories come... down like a flood.
and there taking you back... to someone you love.
Well there's something that's good, that those memories lack,
if all they can do is remind you of someone you'll never get back.
Chorus/
Every night... every day...
I close my eyes... I see her face...
Sure it sounds good... what the songwriter tells us,
but every memory ain't necessarily precious.
Every Sunday she sang... from the hymnbook at church.
I can still hear her voice, in the fields where we worked.
Singing "I'll Fly Away"... and "Precious Memories".
But every song I discover's, just another reminder to me.
Chorus repeat/
Every night... every day...
I close my eyes... I see her face...
Sure it sounds good... what the songwriter tells us,
but every memory ain't necessarily precious.
Chorus repeat/
Every night... female/ "I know you miss me, I miss you too."
Every day... "Every day here, I think of you."
I close my eyes... "There is a way you can come to me."
And I see her face... "I'll see you soon... I love you too..."
Sure it sounds good... what the songwriter tells us.
But every memory, ain't necessarily precious.
But every memory, ain't necessarily precious.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
What's So Bad About Believing?
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
(slow tempo)
Dad told me once, that mom believed,
that every shooting star we see
is an angel with an answer to a prayer.
(But) somewhere along the way he found,
faith is best kept on the ground.
And not to place your trust somewhere up there...
But tell me what's so bad about believing?
Tell me what about believing is so wrong?
I kind of like the thought... that someone's watching (over)
I kind of like the notion, we are not alone.
But dad says it's just a bedtime story.
That no one's really there to listen when we pray.
But when I look around at all of nature's glory,
I see the fingerprints of God... on every day.
I wonder what's so bad about believing?
Is it wrong to carry faith inside your heart?
Consider if... God walked beside you... (with you)
and everything you did today, he played a part.
Tell me what's so great... about believing?
You could spend your life, just chasing smoke.
Somewhere along the way you'll just be disappointed.
Somewhere along the way you'll find it's all a joke.
Every Sunday morning, you could find your mom, there,
in the little chapel, down beside the glade.
She was strong, she believed and she was faithful.
Up until the day, God took her away.
It didn't matter all the plans that we had made...
All our hopes... and our dreams... had been betrayed.
So TELL ME what’s so great about believing?
I believed and it left me all alone.
Chorus/
TRUST in the Lord! SEEK and you'll find!
FAITH is the key that unlocks the door!
FAITH! (Lifts you up)
FAITH! (Keeps you down!)
FAITH....!
"What did God ever do to you?"
"What did God ever do FOR you?"
Somewhere in my heart, there's a part believing...
better days are waiting, just around the bend...
Somewhere up above, angels are singing... (girl choir)
One day I could hear my mom's voice again.
Well, it's better son to pick yourself up by your bootstraps!
I've never had a burning bush appear to me...
No band of angels ever worked the lower forty... (not hardly!)
God never paid a banker's note, that I could see.
You're stubborn as an old mule, you never listen!
(oh, really...) Well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree!
You have made life's misery your mission! ( you don't know…)
(both) I don't think we ever will agree...!
Chorus/
TRUST in the Lord! SEEK and you'll find!
FAITH is the key that unlocks the door!
FAITH! (Lifts you up)
FAITH! (Keeps you down!)
FAITH....!
"What did God ever do to you?"
"What did God ever do FOR you?"
I can hear it in the choir when they're singing.
"Why does God allow pain and sorrow?"
See it in the colors of the setting sun...
"Why does he allow war to rage?"
Imagine what it must be like in heaven!
"Always fearing what comes tomorrow."
I've heard it said that tears never come.
"Why did he take her away."
"I'll tell you what's so hard about believing!"
I can see him everywhere...
"When you need God most, he isn't near..."
He is with us in the fields.
"If he's there, he doesn't seem to listen."
Just an old man, bitter in your ways!
"And then he takes the ones that we hold dear"
Ah, that's ridiculous!
"Then it's your fault your mom's no longer here!"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
female voice/
"Hard and bitter words...
Words that hide the sunshine like a cold and cloudy day.
Words that pierce the soul and make a heart lose all hope.
It's easy to lose your way, when you don't have love or faith to guide you.
A broken spirit will find no virtue in mercy.
It makes it hard to forgive others... and harder still to forgive ourselves."
All the days of your life... have gone humming along.
Then one day without warning... things go terribly wrong.
Maybe heart-ache will find you. Maybe sickness will come.
Maybe the bankers foreclose... on the old family farm.
Take the boy with no mother... a fever burns in his chest.
With his dad by the bedside... he's all this father has left.
And he thinks about praying... for the faith that he lacks
and for words spoke in anger... he wishes he could take back.
Lord... I know you and I... we haven't been on speaking terms.
That's my fault I reckon.
I've tried to believe but... things haven't gone my way for a long, long time.
It's been so long... and Lord, I miss her so much.
Some days... I can't think of anything else.
And we're losing this farm Lord. It's been in my family for years.
God... if you can hear me... I'm at the end of my rope.
I don't know where to turn... I just...
Please God... don't take my son... he's all I've got.
Please God... please... God forgive me...
Forgive my unbelief... forgive my angry words... forgive me.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
Somewhere up in the morning... while the world is asleep.
Well I'm just sitting here crying the tears that nobody sees but me.
I can keep up a good front. I can appear to be strong.
But in my heart I have reached desperation,
and I'm standing here all alone.
Who am I to believe and what gives me the right
to expect God to come when I cry in the night?
Chorus/
He never sleeps. He's never weary.
Come what may, he's always near me.
When I lose... my way and the path grows steep
he knows what it's like to weep. So he never sleeps.
Here I am on my knees Lord. It's been so long now I know.
But I have no one to turn to and I'm on the edge here with no place to go.
If it's true what they say Lord. That you can hear me somehow.
No one else ever needed you more than the
way Lord that I need you now.
Through the dark of the night till the break of the dawn
when you're tired and you feel that you can't carry on...
Chorus/
He never sleeps. He's never weary.
Come what may, he's always near me.
When I lose... my way and the path grows steep
he knows what it's like to weep. So he never sleeps.
Chorus/
He never sleeps. He's never weary.
Come what may, he's always near me.
When I lose... my way and the path grows steep
he knows what it's like to weep. So he never sleeps.
He never sleeps.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
There's a little church... just down the road
from a little farm... where the tall corn grows.
And in the little church... on a Sunday morn
in a little pew sits... the farmer and his son.
What makes a man... have a change of heart?
When it's been so long... where does he start?
The congregation stands... you see it in his face.
He walks down the aisle while, they sing Amazing Grace.
Chorus/
We take another step. We walk down the aisle.
We lose another day, but, gain another mile.
Soon the leaves will fall and all meanwhile...
We take another step. We take another step. We take another step.
We walk down the aisle.
Another shooting star... another harvest comes.
Yields enough to pay... the banker's note, then some.
A few seasons turn... a boy to a man.
Soon he meets a girl and, soon they're makin' plans.
Chorus/
We take another step. We walk down the aisle.
We lose another day, but, gain another mile.
Soon the leaves will fall and all meanwhile...
We take another step. We take another step. We take another step.
We walk down the aisle.
On any other day... before the break of dawn
if you were passing by... the kitchen lights are on.
He didn't milk the cow... or see the morning sun.
A farmer doesn't get to choose... when his season's done.
So in the little church... on a winter's day
they march single file past, where the farmer lay.
And the farmer's son... in his Sunday best
takes out a locket chain and lays it on his fathers chest.
Chorus/
We take another step. We walk down the aisle.
We lose another day, but, gain another mile.
Soon the leaves will fall and all meanwhile...
We take another step. We take another step. We take another step.
We walk down the aisle.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Milton Smith
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
female voice/
"These fields were but God's canvas. Painted in the spring
with life and song and promise... with shoots of blue and green
and red and gold to end the summers. Then with autumn skies of gray,
all our hard work was rewarded, just before the winter days."
"But now the final harvest comes. These last beams of golden light
cast long shadows on the furrows, where the sun gives way to night.
And here at last, at journey's end, you know what God had always known.
That angels don't take souls away, oh love... they only bring us home."
"So now... find peace from doubt and worry, peace from trouble that it brings.
It's time to rest my weary husband... to lay aside all earthly things.
For here, today... is our reunion. At last today you'll come to me.
It's time to open up your eyes, my love... and tell me what you see...
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
Accapella choir/
Nothin' but... (blue skies...) blue skies!
Nothin' but... (blue skies...) blue skies!
Choir/
Nothin' but, nothin but nothin'... nothin' but nothin' but nothin'...
Nothing but blue skies everywhere.
I've never seen anything to compare.
My oh my... nothing but blue skies!
I see a river... crystal clear.
I can't believe I'm even standing here,
can't believe my eyes... nothing but blue skies!
choir/
Nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'... nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'...
I hear the singing of an angel choir.
They're singing higher and higher and high...!
Seems to reach the sky...
I've seen Matthew... hey, I met John.
So many more oh, I've hardly begun.
How time flies... when you're looking at blue skies!
choir/
Nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'... nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'...
So many faces... smiling back at me.
I look through the crowd... I'm trying to see..
did you know her eyes... remind me of blue skies?
Then I feel a touch... like a summer breeze.
I turn around... all I can do is freeze...
when I realize... I'm looking into her eyes.
bridge/
No sense of lost time... just angels and sunshine...
and blue skies (everywhere) Nothing but blue skies...
male and female spoken part
"I can't believe it.. it's really you... where are we.. is this...?" (interrupted by...)
"Welcome home!... oh how I've missed you... since the day I had to leave you both, I've waited...
All those prayers... that God would send someone to help you find your way...
God answered my prayers... you could never see it
on the morning our son was born."
Choir/
Nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'... nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'...
I hear whisper... it moves through the crowd.
I see a light and then everyone bows.
Everyone bows...
All of my life... all those sad goodbyes...
all of the strife... right before my eyes...
it all melts away... it feels so far away...
I feel a hand... wipe away my tears...
I rise to my feet and then everyone cheers!
choir/
Nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'... nothin' but, nothin' but nothin'...
Nothing but blue skies... nothing but blue skies...
Nothing but blue... skies... blue... skies....!
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark Bishop, Jeff Collins, David Johnson
Possum Run Music / BMI
Chris White Music / BMI
Asheville Music Publishing / BMI
We work the fields... the fields of love.
Put your heart and soul into it, you'll get back more than enough.
It takes the rain, it takes the sunshine and they both fall from above
to work the fields... the fields of love.
Down on the farm... September morn... a daughter's born.
The day's begun... with the morning sun... the work goes on and on...
(and on and on...)
Faith...! Faith...! Faith...!
COPYRIGHT © 2011 MARK BISHOP MUSIC, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED