“Preachers Room” Lyrics

The preacher's room was full of bottles

Scotch and rye, whiskey, but he never bought em'

It's time, he said, to tell the truth

I'm pretty sure there's a demon in you

Hard times have come and I hope they're through

I said, can I have your phone and he asked why

Couldn't look me straight in the eye

Why are you being so rude

On his phone was someone else nude

Hard times have come and I hope they're through

Tequila doesn't go with planting flowers

I guess I had to learn that the hard way

Drove on two lanes, but it looked like four

My kids watched me fall through the door

Hard times have come and they're might be more

Time is clarity in the worst kind of way

The path seemed clear before the avalanche came

A message in a broken bottle in the sea of grace

But sometimes when I pray, I don't feel saved