| Song | My Father's Body |
| Artist | Over the Rhine |
| Album | Blood Oranges in the Snow |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| My father’s body lies beneath the snow | |
| High on a hill in Holmes County, Ohio | |
| From there you can look out across the fields | |
| A farmer guides his horses home as day to darkness bends | |
| And finally yields | |
| Dad’s gravestone holds the words Be Still My Soul | |
| A song we sang together long ago | |
| And there were times we even shared one hymnbook | |
| His right hand and my left hand side-by-side holding pages | |
| Of music | |
| But now his hands hold nothing but the earth | |
| Hands that held me moments after my birth | |
| And so we must all finally surrender | |
| As we release our grip upon whatever we hold dear | |
| And call familiar | |
| My father’s body lies beneath the snow | |
| And I’m still learning how to let him go | |
| I’ve come to know him better since he’s gone | |
| And often wondered if or how I could’ve been a different | |
| Better son | |
| My father’s body lies beneath the snow | |
| Sometimes on Christmas Eve that’s where I go | |
| I hear faint Christmas bells from far away | |
| Ring out all the unspoken words I’ve never found within myself | |
| To say |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| High on a hill in Holmes County, Ohio | |
| From there you can look out across the fields | |
| A farmer guides his horses home as day to darkness bends | |
| And finally yields | |
| Dad' s gravestone holds the words Be Still My Soul | |
| A song we sang together long ago | |
| And there were times we even shared one hymnbook | |
| His right hand and my left hand sidebyside holding pages | |
| Of music | |
| But now his hands hold nothing but the earth | |
| Hands that held me moments after my birth | |
| And so we must all finally surrender | |
| As we release our grip upon whatever we hold dear | |
| And call familiar | |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| And I' m still learning how to let him go | |
| I' ve come to know him better since he' s gone | |
| And often wondered if or how I could' ve been a different | |
| Better son | |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| Sometimes on Christmas Eve that' s where I go | |
| I hear faint Christmas bells from far away | |
| Ring out all the unspoken words I' ve never found within myself | |
| To say |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| High on a hill in Holmes County, Ohio | |
| From there you can look out across the fields | |
| A farmer guides his horses home as day to darkness bends | |
| And finally yields | |
| Dad' s gravestone holds the words Be Still My Soul | |
| A song we sang together long ago | |
| And there were times we even shared one hymnbook | |
| His right hand and my left hand sidebyside holding pages | |
| Of music | |
| But now his hands hold nothing but the earth | |
| Hands that held me moments after my birth | |
| And so we must all finally surrender | |
| As we release our grip upon whatever we hold dear | |
| And call familiar | |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| And I' m still learning how to let him go | |
| I' ve come to know him better since he' s gone | |
| And often wondered if or how I could' ve been a different | |
| Better son | |
| My father' s body lies beneath the snow | |
| Sometimes on Christmas Eve that' s where I go | |
| I hear faint Christmas bells from far away | |
| Ring out all the unspoken words I' ve never found within myself | |
| To say |