(Verse 1) I wear the collar now, though the cloth is thin and frayed, Traded the whiskey bottle for the prayers I never prayed. I'm running from the fire, but the smoke still stains my coat, And every mile I travel, there's a whisper in my throat. I preach of sin and mercy to the shadows on the wall, But the face lookin' back is the sinner who caused the fall. (Chorus) Oh, I bought a worn-out Bible and I hit the dusty road, Thought a change of scenery could lighten up the load. But the Devil ain't no stranger, he's a passenger, always near, He rides shotgun in my silence, and he whispers what I fear. Every gospel song I sing is a lie I try to sell, 'Cause you can't outrun the wicked man who drags your soul to hell. (Verse 2) They call me "Reverend," they seek my hand, they ask for peace of mind, They don't see the tracks behind me, the promises I left behind. I tell them about redemption, how the blood can wash you clean, But the river I crossed was black, the dirtiest you've seen. I pray for those who listen, then I pack my empty case, 'Cause I can't stay too long in any one forsaken place. (Chorus) Oh, I bought a worn-out Bible and I hit the dusty road, Thought a change of scenery could lighten up the load. But the Devil ain't no stranger, he's a passenger, always near, He rides shotgun in my silence, and he whispers what I fear. Every gospel song I sing is a lie I try to sell, 'Cause you can't outrun the wicked man who drags your soul to hell. (Bridge) I stopped beneath a gallows tree, where the crows began to call, I shouted out a scripture, hoping to break the spell of all. But the rope just swayed a little, like a pendulum in the breeze, Reminding me the judgment won't be settled on my knees. I can change the clothes I'm wearin', I can change the way I speak, But the darkness in my memory is the demon I can't leak. (Guitar Solo / Banjo Breakdown - Dark, slow, and heavy) (Outro) The sun sinks down like burning ash, the air grows cold and thin, I pour some dust on holy water, and I watch the light cave in. One foot on the gas, one foot in the grave. The preacher's ridin' on, but who is he trying to save? Not this man. Not this soul. He rides with me.
