(J.D. Summer - James W. Vaughn)      There's a place dear to me   Where I'm longing to be   With my friends at the old country church   Where with mother we went   And our Sundays were spent   With our friends at the old country church.      Precious years of memory   Oh, what joy they bring to me   How I long once more to be   With my friends at the old country church.      Sometimes in fond mem'ry   My thoughts go back to the old country church   That I attened as a boy   You know it's kinda funny how we cling   To old bygone days and bygone places isn't it   Why it seems like only yesterday   That my mother took my childish hand in hers   And led me slowly down that long   Winding path to hear the word of God   And I seem to sense his presence   More strongly there than anyplace I've ever known   There with the singin' of the birds   And the humming of the bees.      I knew that God was surely there   I knew it just as sure as if he'd laid his hand on my shoulder   And said welcome to my house son   Ah, but years have passed and times   Has brought many heartaches and many tears   I've seen my mother pass onto the   Great beyond and many loved ones have followed   And I'd seen them go with dispairing   Hearts and tear dimmed eyes      And now in later days as I stroll along   The grassy footpaths to the old country churchyard   And I view the final resting place of my departed kin   I'm consoled by the thought that their sleep is a happy one   There in the place where God and men are one   And once again I seem to hear   The voice of our gentle shepherd saying   Welcome, welcome to my house my son.      Precious years with memory   Oh, what joy they bring to me   How I long once more to be   With my friends at the old country church...