Talking To God Songtext / Lyric

School let out at three o' clock I picked Jackson up

I had the tent and the sleeping bags in the back end of the truck

Built a fire up by the lake, watched the sun go down, fell asleep side by side

on Nature's hollowed ground



You may not find me every Sunday sitting on the front row pew

There are other ways of praying, I believe we still get through

The quiet of the backwoods with a boy and a fishing rod,

That's just my way of talking to God






Waking to a whippoorwill at the crack of dawn

Sunbeams shining through the pines before the mist is gone,

I hear a different drummer when I'm closer to the land

Sometimes I have to get away to find out who I am



You may not find me every Sunday sitting on the front row pew

There are other ways of praying, I believe we still get through

Down a road less traveled, I let go of a lot

That's just my way of talking to God



I don't need a cathedral or tabernacle choir

A mountain stream, cold and clean, gets me inspired

Standing in rainstorm, now some might think it odd

But it's justmy way of talking to God

It's just my way of talking to God