He rode easy in the saddle; he was tall and lean

And at you'd a-thought nothing but a streak of mean

Could make a man look so downright strong

But one look in his eyes and you'd know you was wrong

He was a mountain of a man, and I want you to know

He could preach hot hell or freezin' snow

He carried a Bible in a canvas sack

And everybody called him the Reverend Mr. Black

He was poor as a beggar, but he rode like a king

Sometimes in the evening, I could hear him sing:

I gotta walk that lonesome valley

I gotta walk it by myself

There ain't nobody here can walk it for me

I gotta walk it by myself

If ever I could have thought that this man in black

Was soft and had any yellow up his back

I gave that notion up the very day

A lumberjack came in and it wasn't to pray

He kicked open that meeting house door

And he cussed everybody up and down the floor

Then, when things got quiet all over the place

He walked up and cussed in the preacher's face

He hit that Reverend like a kick of a mule

And to my way of thinkin' it took a pure fool

To turn the other cheek to that lumberjack

But that's what he did, The Reverend Mr. Black.

He stood like a rock, a man among men

And then he let that lumberjack hit him again

And then with a voice as kind as could be

He cut him down like a big oak tree when he said:

You gotta walk that lonesome valley

You gotta walk it by yourself

There ain't nobody here can walk it for you

You gotta walk it by yourself

Well, it's been many years since we had to part

And I guess I learned all his ways by heart

Yes, I can still hear his sermons ring

Down in the valley where he used to sing

You gotta walk that lonesome valley

You gotta walk it by yourself

There ain't nobody here can walk it for you

You gotta walk it by yourself

You gotta walk that lonesome valley

You gotta walk it by yourself

There ain't nobody here can walk it for you

You gotta walk it by yourself