Sunday in the South (feat. Jason Aldean & Luke Bryan)

Mill worker houses lined up in a row Another southern Sunday's morning glow Beneath the steeple all the people have begun Shaking hands with the man who grips the gospel gun While in 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're down" Another sacred Sunday in the South, all right A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all Popping in the wind like an angry cannonball Now the holes of history are cold and still They still smell the powder burn and they probably always will And on the old town square Under the barbershop pole They set me up in the chair when I was four years old I can almost hear my papa saying "Won't you hold still, son, stop squirming around?" Another Southern Sunday's coming down I can almost hear the old folks say You'll make it big one day You'll leave this town Some other lazy Sunday you'll be back around, all right I can feel the evening sun go down And all the lights in the house one by one go out Softly in the distance, nothing stirs about And the night is filled with the sound of a whippoorwill On a Sunday in the South, alright Just another Sunday Just another Sunday in the South Ooh, just another Sunday Oh, another sacred Sunday in the South I can hear my mama calling That evening sun has fallen I missed him, oh, sweet Sunday Ooh, another sacred Sunday I can hear my mama calling in the South, all right Yeah, just another Sunday Oh, in the South Oh, another sacred Sunday