Sunday In The South

Sunday In The South - Shenandoah

Mill worker houses lined up in a row

Another southern sunday morning blow

Beneath the steeple

All the people have begun

Shakin＇ hands with the man

Who grips the gospel gun

While the quiet prayer

The smell of dinner on the ground

Heals up the morning air

Ain＇t nothin＇ sweeter around

I can almost hear my mama pray:

＂Oh lord forgive us when we doubt ＂

Another sacred sunday in the south

A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all

Popping in the wind like an angry cannon ball

The holes of history are cold and still

But they smell the powder burnin＇

And they probably always will

And on the old town square under

The barber shop pole

They sat me up in the chair

When I was four years old

I can almost hear my papa say:

＂Won＇t you hold still son

Stop squirmn＇ around

Another sacred sundays coming down＂

I can almost hear the old folks say:

＂You＇ll make it big one day

You＇ll leave this town ＂

Some other lazy sunday

You＇ll come back around

I can feel the evening sun go down

And all the lights in the houses

One by one go out

Softly in the distance nothing stirs about

And the night is filled

With the sound of a whipporwil

On a sunday in the south

Just another Sunday

(just another Sunday in the south)

Another sacred Sunday

I can hear my momma callin' in the south

Just another sunday

How I miss those old sweet

Sunday's in the south

Another sacred Sunday

I can hear my momma

Callin' in the south allright

Just another Sunday

In the said