Falling Leaves
Composer(s): Grandpa Jones; Louis Jones
Performer(s): Grandpa Jones;
Pam Linton; Cliff Waldron; Billy Walker



By the grave site of this near forgotten man  
On this cold November morning here I stand  
Thinking of the friends he lost for the love of gold  
This story through the years has often been told    

Falling leaves that lie scattered on the ground
The birds and flowers that were here cannot be found
All the friends that he once knew are not around
They're all scattered like the leaves upon the ground

Some folks drift along through life and never thrill
To the feeling that a good deed brings until
It's too late and they are ready to lie down
There beneath the leaves that's scattered on the ground

Lord, let my eyes see every need of every man
Make me stop and always lend a helping hand
Then when I'm laid beneath that little grassy mound
There'll be more friends around than leaves upon the ground

To your grave there's no use taking any gold
You cannot use it when it's time for hands to fold
When you leave this earth for a better home someday
The only thing you'll take is what you gave away