He's got the whole world in His hands That much I understand Thanks to a Sunday morning, white church, front-row seat
I try not to complicate Him Keep it simple when I'm praying And trust He's got some kind of plan for me
Every night I bow my head, amen Just like I'm talking to a friend And I can picture Him
I bet God drives a Silverado I could see His house sitting on some land And this year it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering what He's really like I like to think He spends His off-days up there fishin' And I bet God plays a Gibson
He turned water into wine Seems like my kind of guy I bet He's up there six-string strumming With Loretta Lynn tonight
Every night I bow my head, amen Like I'm catching up with one of my old friends And I picture Him
I bet God drives a Silverado I could see His house sitting on some land And this year it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering what He's really like I like to think He spends His off-days up there fishin' And I bet God plays a Gibson
How cool would it be If this guitar that's saving me Is the same one that He's playing I might be wrong, all I'm saying
Is I bet God drives a Silverado I could see His house sitting on some land And this year it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering what He's really like I like to think He spends His off-days up there fishin' And I bet God plays a Gibson
I bet God plays a Gibson Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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