Seven Sundays

This tie's fitting just a little too tight Might have had one too many last night I wonder if it's written all over my face It's been a little while since I've seen this place Still I'm sitting here in the back row Like a long lost son is come back home When I bow my head and taken off my hat A Sunday morning takes me back Growing up under that hometown church steeple Learning God hates sin but still loves people The preacher preaching 'bout the Promised Land And me thinking 'bout holding Jesse Lynn's hand And one hot summer when I was thirteen Took my soul to the river and washed it clean Feels so good, Lord, why can't there be Seven Sundays a week Well, I can still hear daddy singing strong and low It is well, it is well with my soul And mama laid out my Sunday best I can still count every flower on her blue sundress I've done a lot of living since those days But a boy comes back when he's been raised Chorus It was softball games And it was true love waits And all of those amazing things About amazing grace Chorus Seven Sundays a week