The Preacher

Two Shot's in Eagle's Landing
	   	He wakes up every day
                And then heads into town.
                Passes round the plate,
                But he ends up on the ground.
                
                He takes all their money
                And invests it as their tithe.
                He’s just a nice guy.
                He’s just doing right.
                
                He woke up
                And then woke up his wife.
                Went and kissed his daughter
                And then left to preach life.
                
                He’s a hard working man,
                Works directly for the Lord.
                Never committed a sin,
                But he’s now on the floor.
                
                That night,
                When his supper grows cold,
                His wife begins to worry,
                As her husbands getting old.
                
                Started lose track
                Of his thoughts and his speech.
                She knew it was his duty,
                So she still let him preach.
                
                But the issue that night
                Was not his feeble mind.
                Some drunken bastard
                Had made him next in line
                
                For the pearly gates.
                
                He had woken up
                For his last day.
                If his son had known that,
                He’d had something to say.
                They lived together,
                But he never knew him.
                Son was a quiet boy,
                In the background blended in.
                
                His father was beloved
                By the whole of the town.
                But in his own offspring,
                Love could not be found.
                
                That goddamned bastard
                That went pew-pew in the pews,
                Left a boy, girl, and mom there
                Talking to the news.
                
                His wife,
                Cried tears like Genesis,
                Flowing ever steady,
                Even spraying mist.
                
                Annie,
                Spitting image of her dad,
                Shook fists at press,
                Looking pissed and mad.
                
                But his son,
                Had no words about him.
                Took questions,
                But they never sank in.
                
                The church in northwest Texas
                Was the saddest of them all,
                But they knew their blessed pastor
                Would loudly be called
                
                At the pearly gates.