you can catch him at church every once in a Sunday,
the back pew always seems to save him a seat.
where the booze sweating out from saturday night,
gets met with the tear running down his cheek.

Lord know's he loves his whiskey and women,
won't let a good time pass him by.
loves this life he has been given,
is going to till the day he dies

deep within the body of a sinner,
a saints heart does lie
would walk through fire for friends and family,
never afraid to lay down his life

to stubborn to give in to the devil,
his pride won’t let God have his soul,
he hasn't lost his sense of direction,
he's just taking the long way home