Watching the surf cover up my toes
Breathing the salt air from the coast.
Ten years old with my eyes pressed closed.
Life is a church.
Remembering first love's tender kiss.
Mourning the loss of my innocence,
The bittersweet taste of it on my lips.
Life is a church.
These are the sacraments.
This is the altar.
Love is the spirit
Making the blue planet turn.
Life is a church.
Chorus
Watching my baby being born
Written all over you, pain and joy
Holding your hand, it's a little boy.
Chorus
Ashes to ashes, earth to earth.
The preacher throws in the first handful of dirt.
My little boy asks me, Does goodbye always hurt?
Chorus
Life Is A Church Video (MV)
David Phelps - Life Is A Church Lyrics
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Watching the surf cover up my toes
Breathing the salt air from the coast.
Ten years old with my eyes pressed closed.
Life is a church.
Remembering first love's tender kiss.
Mourning the loss of my innocence,
The bittersweet taste of it on my lips.
Life is a church.
These are the sacraments.
This is the altar.
Love is the spirit
Making the blue planet turn.
Life is a church.
Chorus
Watching my baby being born
Written all over you, pain and joy
Holding your hand, it's a little boy.
Chorus
Ashes to ashes, earth to earth.
The preacher throws in the first handful of dirt.
My little boy asks me, Does goodbye always hurt?
Chorus
Breathing the salt air from the coast.
Ten years old with my eyes pressed closed.
Life is a church.
Remembering first love's tender kiss.
Mourning the loss of my innocence,
The bittersweet taste of it on my lips.
Life is a church.
These are the sacraments.
This is the altar.
Love is the spirit
Making the blue planet turn.
Life is a church.
Chorus
Watching my baby being born
Written all over you, pain and joy
Holding your hand, it's a little boy.
Chorus
Ashes to ashes, earth to earth.
The preacher throws in the first handful of dirt.
My little boy asks me, Does goodbye always hurt?
Chorus
Writer: MARCUS HUMMON
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group