Megan Moroney - God Plays a Gibson

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 Bulldogs 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 He'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 Bulldogs 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 Bulldogs 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

Written by:
Colin Healy, MacKenzie Carpenter, Megan Moroney

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find