God Plays a Gibson

He's got the whole world in His hands, that much I understand Thanks to a Sunday mornin', white church, front-row seat I try not to complicate Him, keep it simple when I'm prayin' 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 sittin' on some land And this year, it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan I spend so much of my time wonderin' 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 Hе's up there six-string strummin' With Loretta Lynn tonight Every night I bow my head, amen Like I'm catchin' up with one of my old friends And I picture Him I bet God drives a Silverado I could see His house sittin' on some land And this year, it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan I spend so much of my time wonderin' 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 savin' me Is the same one that He's playin' I might be wrong, all I'm sayin' Is I bet God drives a Silverado I could see His house sittin' on some land And this year, it's pretty clear He's a Georgia Bulldog fan I spend so much of my time wonderin' 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