How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Brass bells chiming, angels hiding in the choir
Open the small blue hymnal
Many voices rose as one
But you taught me the low notes and together we boldly sung
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Sitting quietly in the shadows tucked safely between you and mom
My thoughts raced inside me
Waiting for the hymns to come
Waiting to stand by you and find a voice of my own
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Walking past rows of marble to lay fresh flowers for those who'd gone
But today we remember
A gentle life lived well and long
Putting flowers on your stone remembering you in song
And the people turned around
And wondered at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
Of a mother and son in agony
HughMontgomery22 - The Little Church Lyrics
HughMontgomery22 - The Little Church Lyrics
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How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Brass bells chiming, angels hiding in the choir
Open the small blue hymnal
Many voices rose as one
But you taught me the low notes and together we boldly sung
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Sitting quietly in the shadows tucked safely between you and mom
My thoughts raced inside me
Waiting for the hymns to come
Waiting to stand by you and find a voice of my own
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Walking past rows of marble to lay fresh flowers for those who'd gone
But today we remember
A gentle life lived well and long
Putting flowers on your stone remembering you in song
And the people turned around
And wondered at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
Of a mother and son in agony
The little Church on Sunday morn
Brass bells chiming, angels hiding in the choir
Open the small blue hymnal
Many voices rose as one
But you taught me the low notes and together we boldly sung
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Sitting quietly in the shadows tucked safely between you and mom
My thoughts raced inside me
Waiting for the hymns to come
Waiting to stand by you and find a voice of my own
And the people would turn around
And wonder at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
How well I still remember
The little Church on Sunday morn
Walking past rows of marble to lay fresh flowers for those who'd gone
But today we remember
A gentle life lived well and long
Putting flowers on your stone remembering you in song
And the people turned around
And wondered at the sound
Of a father and son in harmony
Of a mother and son in agony
Writer: Hugh Montgomery
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid