[Instrumental Intro — 8 bars, no vocals] [Sparse fingerpicked acoustic guitar] [No drums] [Plain American country vocal] [No vocal ornamentation] [Clear, dry English pronunciation] [Low male baritone] [Verse 1] This body’s just a cabin with a restless soul inside. One voice says, “I’m your brother,” one says, “I’m your guide.” “You’re the finest man alive, the crown beneath the sun.” And he starts to trust the echoes till he forgets where he’s from. [Chorus] Praise is sweet poison when you drink it by the jar. It lifts you like an angel, then forgets you where you are. So bow your head and keep walking, let the empty thunder fade. The soul that serves the deepest is the soul that fear has spared. [Verse 2] A bitter word may wound you, and stay with you for years. But honey hides a furnace beneath its taste and cheers. The hands that raise you proudly may leave you in the dust. When the praise is gone by morning, who will love you without lust? [Bridge — music strips back] Be a servant when you’re able. Don’t go begging to be king. Take the blows and keep your balance. Let the quiet spirit sing. The mallet strikes the ball, but never claims the game. The hand that holds the mallet doesn’t need to shout its name. [Final Chorus] Praise is sweet poison when you drink it by the jar. It lifts you like an angel, then forgets you where you are. So bow your head and keep walking, let the empty thunder fade. The soul that kneels before the truth will never fear the praise they made. [Outro] The rose can hide a thorn. The sugar hides the flame. A man may lose his soul while they praise him by his name.
