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 Lane'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 up the Sunday best
I can still count every flower on her blue sun dress


I've done a lot of living since those days
But a boy comes back when he's been raised


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 Lane'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?

It was soft ball games

And it was true love waits
And all of those amazing things
About amazing grace


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 Lane's hand


And one hot summer when I was thirteen
Took my soul to the river and washed it clean
It feels so good, Lord, why can't there be

Seven Sundays a week?

Seven Sundays a week