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Song Lyrics
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.
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 God Plays A GibsonMore music by Megan Moroney
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| Megan Moroney Song Lyrics - God Plays A Gibson |
