Millworker houses lined up in a row

Another southern Sunday's morning glow

Beneath the steeple all the people have begun

Shakin hands with the man who grips the gospel gun

While the quiet prayer

The smell of dinner on the ground

Fills up the mornin air

ain't nothin sweeter around

I can almost hear my momma pray

Oh Lord forgive us, when we doubt

another sacred Sunday in the South

[Verse 2]

A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all

poppin in the wind like an angry cannon ball

Now the coals of history are cold and still

but they still smell the powder burning and they probably always will

and on the old town square under the barber shop pole

they set me up in the chair

when I was 4-years old

I cannot almost hear my papa say

[Chorus 2]

want you hold still son stop squirmin around

another southern Sunday's comin' 'round

[break]

I can almost hear the old folks say

you'll make it big one day and leave this town

it's another lazy Sunday, back around

I can feel the evenin' sun go down

and all the lights in the houses one by one go out

softly in the distance nothin' stirs about

and the night is filled

with the sound of a whipperwhill

on a sunday in the south allright

[repeat intro until end]

just another Sunday (just another Sunday in the south)

Oh, another sacred Sunday in the south

just another sunday (how I miss those old sweet Sunday's in the south)

another sacred Sunday (I can hear my momma callin' in the south, allright)

just another Sunday