Sunday In The South Lyrics - Shenandoah

Millworker houses lined up in a row 

Another southern sunday's morning glow 

Beneath the steeple all the people had begun 

Shaking hands with the man who grips the gospel gun 

While the quiet prayer, the smell of dinner on the ground 

Fills up the morning air, ain't nothing sweeter around 

I can almost hear my mama pray 

Oh Lord forgive us when we doubt 

Another sacred sunday in the south, alright 

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A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all 

Popping the wind like an angry cannon ball 

Now the coals of history are cold and still 

But they still smell the powder burning, and they probaly always will 

And on the old town square, under the barber shop pole 

They sit 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 squirming around 

Another southern sunday's comin' down 

I can almost hear the old folks say 

You made it big, one day you'll leave this town 

Some other lazy sunday, you'll be 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 whipporwill 

Want a sunday in the south, alright 

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Just another sunday in the south 

Oh, another sacred sunday in the south 

How I miss them old sweet sundays in the south 

I can hear my mama calling, in the south, alright 

Oh-oh-oh 

In the south