Seven Sundays Lyrics - She Won't Be Lonely Long - Clay Walker

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? 

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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 

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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