Father's Playing Ground
In this modernistic day,
Some have strayed too far away
From our father’s camp meeting, praying ground;
used to fast and pray all day,
And ask the Lord to have His way,
Back there on our father’s praying ground.
Let us go back to our father’s praying ground,
God is not pleased, let us go back on bended knees;
Too far away some have strayed,
Just now and then a
soul is saved;
Let us go back to our father’s praying ground.
Through the country we would ride,
With our children by our
Traveling through the storm and rain just the same;
Going to the house of the Lord,
Where we would bow in sweet accord,
Singing, “Come, ye that love the
Lord, in Jesus’ name.”
The old preacher could hardly read,
Still what he said sinners took heed,
And would steal away and bow
Sometimes beside an old oak tree,
One would cry, “He spoke peace to me,”
Just before day on our father’s praying ground.
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