Lyrics God Plays a Gibson - Megan Moroney
He's
got
the
whole
world
in
His
hands,
that
much
I
understand
Thanks
to
a
Sunday
mornin',
white
church,
front-row
seat
I
try
not
to
complicate
Him,
keep
it
simple
when
I'm
prayin'
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
sittin'
on
some
land
And
this
year,
it's
pretty
clear
He's
a
Georgia
Bulldog
fan
I
spend
so
much
of
my
time
wonderin'
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
Hе's
up
there
six-string
strummin'
With
Loretta
Lynn
tonight
Every
night
I
bow
my
head,
amen
Like
I'm
catchin'
up
with
one
of
my
old
friends
And
I
picture
Him
I
bet
God
drives
a
Silverado
I
could
see
His
house
sittin'
on
some
land
And
this
year,
it's
pretty
clear
He's
a
Georgia
Bulldog
fan
I
spend
so
much
of
my
time
wonderin'
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
savin'
me
Is
the
same
one
that
He's
playin'
I
might
be
wrong,
all
I'm
sayin'
Is
I
bet
God
drives
a
Silverado
I
could
see
His
house
sittin'
on
some
land
And
this
year,
it's
pretty
clear
He's
a
Georgia
Bulldog
fan
I
spend
so
much
of
my
time
wonderin'
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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