God Plays a Gibson Lyrics
He’s got the whole world in His hands
That much I understand
Thanks to a Sunday morning, white church, front-row seat
I try not to complicate Him
Keep it simple when I’m praying
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 sitting on some land
And this year it’s pretty clear He’s a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering 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 He’s up there six-string strumming
With Loretta Lynn tonight
Every night I bow my head, amen
Like I’m catching up with one of my old friends
And I picture Him
I bet God drives a Silverado
I could see His house sitting on some land
And this year it’s pretty clear He’s a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering 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 saving me
Is the same one that He’s playing
I might be wrong, all I’m saying
Is I bet God drives a Silverado
I could see His house sitting on some land
And this year it’s pretty clear He’s a Georgia Bulldog fan
I spend so much of my time wondering 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