Porter Wagoner - Trouble in the Amen Corner lyrics

(Rock of ages cleft for me) It was a stylish congregation you could see they'd been around And they had the biggest pipe organ of any church in town But over in the Amen Corner of that church sat Brother Ira And he insisted every Sunday on singing in the choir His voice was cracked and broken age had touched his vocal chords And nearly every Sunday he'd get behind and miss the words Well at last the storm cloud burst and the church was told in vine That Brother Ira must stop his singing or the choir was gonna resign So the pastor appointed a committee I think it was three or four And they got their big fine car and drove up to Ira's door They found the choir's great trouble sittin' in an old arm chair And the summer's golden sunbeams lay upon his snow white hair Said York we're here dear Brother with the best resapprobation To discuss a little matter that affects the congregation Now it was our understanding when we bargained for the chair That they were to relieve us that is they'd do the singin' for us Now we don't want no singin' except what we've bought The newest tunes are all the rage the old ones stand for nought And so we have decided are you listenin' Brother Ira You'll have to stop your singin' it's messin' up our choir The old man raised his head a sign that 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've sung the songs of David nearly eighty years said he They've been my staff and comfort all along life's dreary way I'm sorry if I disturved the choir I guess I'm doin' wrong But when my heart is filled with praise I can't hold back a song I wonder if beyond the tide that's breaking at my feet In that far off heavenly temple where my Master I shall meet Yes I wonder if when I try to sing the songs of God up higher I wonder if they'll kick me out up there for singin' in Heaven's choir A silence filled the little room the old man bowed his head The committee went on back to town but Brother Ira was dead Oh the choir missed him for a while but he was soon forgot And a few church goers watched the door but the old man entered not Far away his voice is sweet and he sings his heart's desire Where there are no church committees and no fashionable choirs (Let me hide myself in Thee)