Luyện nghe bài hát Seven Sundays

This tie's just a little too tight
Might have had one too many night
I wonder if it's written all my face
been a little while since I've seen this place

Still I'm here in the back row
Like a lost son is come back home
I bow my head and taken off my hat
A Sunday morning me back

Growing up under that hometown steeple
Learning God hates sin but still people
The preacher preaching the Promised Land
And me thinking 'bout holding Jesse hand

And one hot when I was thirteen
my soul to the river and washed it clean
Feels so good, Lord, why can't be
Seven a week?

Well, I can still hear daddy singing and low
It is well, it is with my soul
And laid up the Sunday best
I can still count every on her blue sun dress

done a lot of living since those days
But a boy comes back when he's raised

Growing up under that hometown church
God hates sin but still loves people
The preacher preaching the Promised Land
And me thinking 'bout holding Jesse hand

And one hot when I was thirteen
my soul to the river and washed it clean
Feels so good, Lord, why there be
Seven a week?

It was soft games
And it was true love
And all of those things
About grace

Growing up that hometown church steeple
Learning God hates sin but loves people
The preacher preaching 'bout the Promised
And me 'bout holding Jesse Lane's hand

And one hot summer I was thirteen
Took my soul to the river and it clean
It so good, Lord, why can't there be
Sundays a week?

Seven a week