She's got a Bible worn with time, pages faded thin,
A rocking chair that creaks as she settles in again,
Every night on that old floor, whispering her pleas,
Her knees tell the stories of all her silent deeds.

They call her Old Camel Knees, worn down by grace,
Old Camel Knees, with lines etched on her face,
Every tear and every sigh, she's known her share of pain,
But she's kept the faith, through the joy and the rain.

Her prayers have seen the sun rise, kissed the moon goodbye,
She's prayed for the broken hearts and those who've passed her by,
Years of bending low, with callouses to show,
But the weight of the world never made her slow.

They call her Old Camel Knees, worn down by grace,
Old Camel Knees, with lines etched on her face,
Every tear and every sigh, she's known her share of pain,
But she's kept the faith, through the joy and the rain.

With each bend and bow, she's sown seeds of love,
Her knees might falter, but her heart's still tough,
She's a living prayer, in every breath she breathes,
A testament to grace on those old camel knees.

Now the years are catching up, but she won't slow down,
Still on that floor, where peace can be found,
Her knees may be weary, but her spirit stands tall,
For every soul she's lifted, she's answered the call.

They call her Old Camel Knees, worn down by grace,
Old Camel Knees, with lines etched on her face,
Every tear and every sigh, she's known her share of pain,
But she's kept the faith, through the joy and the rain.