| Bottles and bibles
|
| Litter the floor
|
| An all night revival
|
| Passed out around 4
|
| Now the preacher’s been drinkin'
|
| But it’s hard not to do
|
| Since she ran out the screen door
|
| And swore they were through
|
| Oh Lord, if you care, send a spirit down here
|
| Cause the preacher’s been drinkin' again
|
| But it’s a hard way to go, on the straight and narrow
|
| When everybody in town points a finger at you
|
| But they ain’t had to walk with the weight that you’ve hauled
|
| They don’t know you at all, but they think that they do
|
| He didn’t believe her
|
| He just knew she’d come home
|
| But the nights kept a' crawlin'
|
| As he laid there alone
|
| And he’d call up to heaven
|
| And he’d hope and he’d pray
|
| But the line’s always busy
|
| Since he went astray
|
| Oh Lord, if you care, won’t you answer his prayers
|
| Cause the preacher’s been drinkin' again
|
| But it’s a hard way to go, on the straight and narrow
|
| When everybody in town points a finger at you
|
| But they ain’t had to walk with the weight that you’ve hauled
|
| They don’t know you at all, but they think that they do
|
| Now the bottles and bibles
|
| Broke out in a fight
|
| The whiskey fought hard, son
|
| And took the victory that night
|
| They found him a' layin'
|
| Face down by the stairs
|
| Dressed up for a sermon
|
| Nobody would hear
|
| Oh Lord, if you care, send your angels down here
|
| Cause the preacher’s been drinkin' again
|
| But it’s a hard way to go, on the straight and narrow
|
| When everybody in town points a finger at you
|
| But they ain’t had to walk with the weight that you’ve hauled
|
| They don’t know you at all, but they think that they do |