A Saint in a dress made of gingham

Hands that are strong but wrinkled Doing work that never gets done Hair, that's lost some of the beauty By too many hours in the sun

Eyes, that show some disappointment And there's been quite a lot in her life She's the foundation I lean on My woman, my woman, my wife

Everyday has been uphill Oh, we climb but we can't reach the top I'm weak and I'm easily discouraged She just smiles when I want to stop

Lips, that are weary but tender With love, that strengthens my life A saint, in a dress made of gingham My woman, my woman, my wife

Two little babies were born in the spring But died when the winter was new I lost control of my mind and my soul But my woman's faith carried us through

When she reaches that river Lord, you know what she's worth Give her that mansion up yonder 'Cause she's been through hell here on earth

Lord, give her my share of Heaven If I've earned any here in this life 'Cause God, I believe she deserves it My woman, my woman, my wife