Sundays

Laid back sundays.
Cold windy weather.
Horses nahing.
Dogs barking.
The preacher preaching.
The singers slinging.
Children laughing.
Babies crying.
Everyone knows everyone.
Your not a stranger.
And not in danger.
Your free.
And strong.
Yes there will be worries.
And sorrow.
And rocky paths.
But in this small town your family.
We give the shirt off our backs.
And a bed to sleep in.
We will teach you a few things.
Show you the old ropes.
Southern and proud to live in such place.
Yes I have written some horrible things.
Some that seem rude.
Others with words i don't even say.
And when I do it's a big thing.
I'm raised in a small Southern Baptist church.
I'm not two face.
I just write what I feel or write what I see.
The work another angel of the fallen was for my best friend who slid away.
But me I'm about a real as it gets.
If you don't like waht I write get over it.
I'm better off without you.
But sundays are my best days.
I get to be with family and friends.
And sing amazing grace.
I get to teach the children I have grown to love
In this small town we speak what's on our mind and that's what I do.
I'm a free spirt but not to free.
I still have my purity.
I'm just me doing what I love .
And that's writing.
So Sundays are my days to to lay back and and settle down.