his pulpit s a corner on 19th and main his grip on the gospel his one claim to fame he hurls fire and brimstone at the cars passing by while he offers salvation from the savior on high his khakis are tattered and he ain t bathed in weeks his bouts with the bottle show up on his cheeks he looks like a scarecrow a sight to behold but he works for the shepherd bringing lambs to the fold he points to the bible he holds in his hands says i m proof that the good lord can save any man son it ain t what you re driving or the clothes that you wear material possessions won t matter up there someday in heaven with the angels i ll sing and these rags that i m wearing will be fit for a king he s fighting a fever but in spite of the chill he pulls up his collar and speaks of god s will his body is weakened but his faith is still strong he s filled with conviction for the mission he s on cause a mansion is waiting he ll be homeless no more and his words will soon echo from that far distant shore son it ain t what you re driving or the clothes that you wear material possessions won t matter up there someday in heaven with the angels i ll sing and these rags that i m wearing will be fit for a king someday in heaven with the angels i ll sing and these rags that i m wearing will be fit for a king
['contemporary country', 'country', 'country road', 'country rock', 'oklahoma country']