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I woke up this morning And got cleaned up Knocked the dust off my Bible And dirt off my truck I'm dressed to the nines In this stained-glass mirror The last place I thought would be is here But I'm sitting in a front-row pew Tears raining on these old boots Suffocating in a collared shirt While I'm waiting to carry you out of this church Hey, we shouldn't be here today You got me cussing in and out of this place You've been saying this is where I need to go But Saturdays ain't made for Sunday clothes Could be Tennessee and 'Bama 50-yard line Working on the truck Could be fencing barb wire Fishing off a bank Sittin in a tree Yeah. That should be us, but dammit you got me Here sitting in a front-row pew Letras de cancionesTears raining on these old boots Suffocating in this collared shirt While I'm waiting to carry you out of this church Hey, we shouldn't be here today You got me cussing in and out of this place You've been saying this is where I need to go But Saturdays ain't made for Sunday clothes I know you're up there Looking down out in the outskirts of Heaven And when that preacher looks in the crowd Come tomorrow I'll be sitting Praying here in a front-row pew Tears raining on these old boots Suffocating in a collared shirt Finding amazing grace right here in this church Man, we shouldn't be here today You got me cussing in and out of this place You've been saying this is where I need to go But Saturdays ain't made for Sunday clothes Sunday clothes Saturdays ain't made for Sunday clothes From Letras Mania