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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.