You could hear granny's feet br Tapping against the floor br Every Sunday morning br Before you came through the door br br Granny would cook cornbread br Potatoes that'd melt in your mouth br Peas, fried chicken, and okra br A lunch from the south br br The whole family sat at the table br Sometimes all afternoon br Saying blessings in the circle br Beside napkins, forks, and spoons br br I haven't sat there in eight years br Seems longer when I start looking br But this morning my stomach churned br For some of granny's cooking br br I remembered how a busted stomach br On Sunday evenings would feel br But I smiled as I got out of bed br Grateful for every meal br br I know at this very moment br Granny's at God's table, see br He wanted her in heaven br To fix him her sweet teabr br Whitney Albrightbr br