I've walked up these hills 1,000 times
And I've walked down them just the same.
I'll walk up these hills 1,000 more
Because each morning ain't ever the same —

The sun rises, casting shadows.
Light and darkness then frame the scene.
God says each morning will be new,
Not wearing on, I sure won't ever see the same this plain.

There's beauty in the clouds,
There's beauty in the rain.
There's beauty in the morning sun
Rising again and again —

I didn't want to walk up the hill this morn…
But viewing this valley and the vista,
I'm sure as hell glad I did
To gaze upon the beauty,
With no need for a frame.