Selma Sundays

Selma sang on Sundays, slid up to reach the highs. She sang about Amazing Grace and angels from the skies. And in the car she sang to me "a-chewin'" on her gum, "I love you a bushel an' a peck..." she'd sing but my Papaw--- he'd just hum. (hum) I need another Selma Sunday afternoon I need another Selma Sunday afternoon--- I need some sweet potato, buttermilk 'n cornbread in a spoon I need another Selma Sunday afternoon. The car slid through the spruce and pine up to the long church drive, we all knew when we'd get home we'd eat till four or five. And when the sun begins to slant the cicadas start to sing and Selma sits in that old lawn chair and it don't mean a thing... no, it don't have to mean a thing if you just want to sing. (la la la de-dum) We need another Selma Sunday afternoon We need another Selma Sunday afternoon--- We need some sweet potato, buttermilk 'n cornbread in a spoon We all need another Selma Sunday afternoon. (la la la de-dum)