Hills humbled, mountains made low

I raised my daughter on wild honey and locusts.
We prettied her up with a camel-skin dress, the good book to keep her focus.
And I love her grandfather, but he don't like the struck-down oak I've made my home.
I keep telling him "you need to sit back and just watch my garden grow".

O the cost of simplicity, woe to the attention it brings me!

This land has left me maimed (I swear I'm not the same)
as its harsh winds sweep across my face.
But I'm just waiting for the rain (to prove I'm right) to put me in my place.

O God, I told my mother she needs to hit the road.
"Leave that empire behind cause my wife and I…we've got God on our side!"

I'm just lighting a candle to see if the sun is risen.
And if this hill is a mantle to display the courage I'm missing…
the cost of simplicity isn't costing me a thing… O not a thing!

This land has left me maimed (if its even changed a thing) as its harsh
winds sweep across my face. I pray you have remained