Leading Me To Sunday

Wasn't written in the scriptures you'd be found twin bunnies hopping along side with the summer little Ronny Johnson's sister tagging right along stolen glances and secret kisses swinging together on the old tire swing back before father called you home That was then before painted memories hung out on the front porch with lemon tea refreshments sparkled a quite midnight sky loving hands held in a most romantic way warming hearts and projecting missed moments waiting patiently for my Sunday to come again