The old country church
Sat far off the road
Paint all peeling
But I remember the feeling
That was the place love glowed
When they opened those windows
On a hot Sunday morn
You could hear those old saints singing
Gabriel, come blow your horn
Dinners on the ground
Good times and laughter
Children playing underfoot
Memories to be thought of, long after
Guitar picking under the oaks
Such lovely people, these kind folks
They knew how to lend a helping hand
They knew the Word of God
And how to stand !