[Spoken, distant church bells, eerie acoustic guitar] Well, bless your hearts… Look who’s come home. [Verse 1 - Restrained Southern drawl, fingerpicked guitar] They found me guilty in the summer of ’89 With a jury full of sinners and a preacher on their side Said I lured a man to darkness, left him bleeding in the pines Then they nailed my name to crosses all along the county line Mama cried behind the courthouse, Daddy wouldn’t meet my eyes And the whole town watched me leaving like they’d seen the devil rise They buried me in whispers, they forgot me by July But a lie don’t stay beneath the ground just ’cause you let it die [Pre-Chorus - Low drums enter, tension building] Now the church doors swing wide And the congregation stares There’s a chill beneath the altar There’s a reckoning in the air [Chorus - Full country-rock band, powerful lead vocal] There’s a devil in a Sunday dress Walking through the church like she ain’t seen death White lace collar, black heart blessed Got a whole lot of truth and a town to undress You can cross yourself, you can pray for grace You can watch that fear crawl across your face You called me wicked, you called me possessed Now the devil’s come home in a Sunday dress [Verse 2 - Driving bass, sinister fiddle] The sheriff’s hair is silver now, his hands still shake like leaves The banker won’t stop sweating, the preacher cannot breathe There’s a woman in the third row who remembers what she saw And a man behind the pulpit who was never tried at all I remember that September, I remember every sound I remember finding blood beside the old church burial ground I remember how I screamed his name, how nobody came And how they pinned his murder on a girl they couldn’t tame [Pre-Chorus - Rising strings, pounding toms] Now the church bells toll twice And the stained glass catches fire Every saint upon the wall Looks a little more like a liar [Chorus - Bigger drums, gritty electric guitars] There’s a devil in a Sunday dress Walking through the church like she ain’t seen death White lace collar, black heart blessed Got a whole lot of truth and a town to undress You can cross yourself, you can pray for grace You can watch that fear crawl across your face You called me wicked, you called me possessed Now the devil’s come home in a Sunday dress [Bridge - Music drops to piano and distant choir] The preacher said the Lord forgives The sheriff said I lied The banker paid to seal my fate And the good Lord knows who died But I kept one little photograph And a letter stained with red Of the boy they said I’d murdered And the words the preacher said… [Spoken - Near-whisper, complete silence underneath] “Nobody will believe her. We’ll bury him before dawn.” [Final Chorus - Explosive drums, choir, soaring vocals] There’s a devil in a Sunday dress And she’s holding every secret they suppressed White lace collar, no more regrets You can damn me all you want, but you ain’t buried me yet Let the courthouse burn, let the steeple fall Let the truth ring out through these bloodstained walls You called me wicked, you called me possessed But the devil wore a collar and you all said yes [Outro - Slow, haunting acoustic guitar and church bells] They say the preacher left town on a cold November day The sheriff took his pension and the banker slipped away And I still wear white on Sunday, leave red roses where he rests Let the dead forgive the living… I’m the devil in a Sunday dress. [Final sound - One church bell, then silence]
