Old Country Church

t was an old country church White paint peelin’ bad Sealed up tight as a drum Makes me feel kinda sad Quiet oh, just listen The song of a meadowlark Singing his lonesome song And will till it’s pitch dark Grass as brown as dust Far as your eye can see Don’t cut it any more No animals to eat A pond not far away Still and shrinkin’ fast Used to be a swimmin’ hole But nothing ever lasts But the old country church Still has it’s share of charm Once families came on Sunday From the nearby country farms!