Four verses into an altar call
She was crying; I was dozing off
Till she grabbed my hand and whispered soft, “Honey, I hear the angel’s song”
The aisle was a river of the Holy Ghost
all the sheep were swimming toward the host and the weak wine in the silver cup
I saw her add her tears and drink it up
I pined for the preacher’s long last prayer
my eyes caught in the coldest stare
thought of weeping myself, but not for my soul I was just so sad....I knew I had to go
Standing she was on her own front porch steps still sweating in that Sunday dress
mosquitos hovering round her neck
She told me just how it felt
She said, “i could have swore I was flying....with Jesus right beside”
I smiled, but I was lying
i didn’t believe a word she said
West Virginia country-folk singer-songwriter Trae Sheehan aims to find a balance between the traditional and the modern on his new LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 29, 2020
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