Way out in the woods
Nobody there
Middle of nowhere
You might just see
Trees and weeds and dirt
But I call it church
It ain't nothing but a river
A little place I float on an old john boat
Might look like just a rod and reel and worms
But I call it church
It ain't no Sunday morning
It ain't no preacher preaching
But out here in the quiet
I can hear him speaking to me
Out where the wild things grow
Out on this country road
The sun the stars and the holy ghost
Yeah I go to church
Some nights I sit out on the hood
In my old truck and I look up
And I feel like I could see
The whole wide world
Yeah I stare at that full moon
I drink a beer and breathe in the air
And I thank him for the more than I deserve
And I go to church
It ain't no Sunday morning
It ain't no preacher preaching
But out here in the quiet
I can hear him speaking to me
Out where the wild things grow
Out on this country road
The sun the stars and the holy ghost
Yeah I go to church
Yeah I go to church
No people no pews
No steeple just blue skies
I'm praying with my eyes wide open
Wide open
Ohhhhh
It ain't no Sunday morning
It ain't no preacher preaching
But out here in the quiet
I can hear him
Ain't no Sunday morning
It ain't no preacher preaching
But out here in the quiet
I can hear him speaking
Out where the wild things grow
Out on this country road
The sun the stars and the holy ghost
Yeah I go to church
I go to church
Yeah I go to church
Ooooh ooooh
Yeah yeah yeah oooh