Well, I pulled-up to that church of Christ
With a broken heart and bloodshot eyes
Too hungover to go inside
So I hung my head and drove-on by

And I don't feel like hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So, here I sit, out on some backroad, paper sack and marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday-best
Thought I really, really knew him well
He was the one, far as I could tell
But last night, I caught him with somebody else
And, yeah, that preacher's-son can go to hell
And I don't feel like hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So, here I sit, out on some backroad, paper sack and marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday-best

Yeah, I know that I'll get over him, in time
But, right now, forgiveness ain't something I can find

And I don't feel like hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So, here I sit, out on some backroad, paper sack and marlboro reds
Drinking, and I'm a mess
Yeah, I'm drinking, in my Sunday-best

When I pulled-up to that church of Christ
Oh, I'm gonna be here, just drinking
It's somethin' silly
Hell, Jesus turned water into wine
Mm, pour me another one, hahaha
Woo, I'm drunk
Hahaha