Sunday Meetin' Time

Sunday meeting time, back home where I was born, was a happy time
Every Sunday morn
I remember well, the songs we used to sing
How we made the rafters ring
It was there I learned to pray, when I was just a kid
Now I'm far away
I'm so glad I did
Someday I'm going back, to hear those church bells chime
At Sunday morning meeting time
Gloria Speaks as the tune is softly played in the background
If the journey of my life were a country road, the important landmarks along that road would be places of worship.
The little white church with the pot bellied stove in the middle of the pews where I first heard of a land call Beulah The village church where as a kid I heard the old saints testify to the faithfulness of God
The church on the bank where I had my first date, and the youth group would gather around the campfire after Sunday night services and sing coom-by-yah-Along my journey is the church were I promised my sweetheart I'd be faithful 'till death do us part, and the place where we brought our first baby to be dedicated to God-and at one church were I said goodbye to my precious father, and later, my mother, and because of those who came to share our grief, I knew I would not walk on alone.
So when the church bell rings this Sunday nornng, I'll hear a whole chorus of bells in my heart, thankful to be in that meetin' house, Sunday morning
T'was there I learned to pray, when I was just a kind
Now I'm far away I'm so glad I did
Someday I'm going back, to hear those church bells chime, at Sunday morning meeting Time