Sunday in the Country

(F. Crane)



When it's Sunday in the country

That's a special kind of day

A time for playin' lazy in the sun

It's so nice to know the work's all done.



The church bells invitation

Seems to warm the whole creation

That the parson's congregation I'd be none

If we all start playin' lazy in the sun.



After the meetin' what a feast will be eaten

Everyone from grandpa down to liitle Faye

Eats fried chicken and hot biscuits by the tray

Sunday dinner in the country is that way.



While the women clean the kitchen

All the men start to horseshoe pitchin'

While the young men stand round itchin' for a try

Then we'll all eat some of grandma's pie.



As Sunday in the country passes by

When the day begins to mellow

And the moon is cornstock yellow

Every gal expects her fellow to come by.



They'll go courtin' while the moon is high

As Sunday in the country passes by...