This morning the pews Were hay bales The pulpit a sack Thrown over a stall The floor just a carpet of sawdust The baptistry was A rusty old trough
(Chorus) There were no steeples There were no candles But Heaven came down There were no suits Just worn out boots Standing on holy ground I guess it's true If even two Are gathered in his midst That's where Jesus is
Somewhere they were gathered And praying Their alter a foot locker Dropped in the sand Sunday's at home Just a memory But there in that tent They still felt his hand
(Repeat Chorus)
On an airplane Or this old bus In the silence He always meets us
Where there's no steeples Where there's no candles Heaven comes down In our Sunday shoes Or in our cowboy boots It's all holy ground I guess it's true If even two Are gathered in his midst That's where Jesus is That's where Jesus isTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
