Reverend RIchman

Reverend Richman washes the windows of his car
Till his mask shines bright and he can impress all the lay folk
There’s an old tent revival in the church yard tonight
And he wants to look good when he tells a new old joke


So he puts on the suit that his grandaddy wore
And he polishes his shoes and says a prayer
“Dear God thank you that I’m not like the sinners in this town
And that so far we’ve kept them way out there.”

After the revival where everyone got re-saved
He goes to the radio station and speaks
About corruption in the White House and drunkenness in the home
Which is where he then goes to add more bruises to his wife’s cheeks

His followers are loyal attendees whose ages
Generally skip from sixteen to thirty-five
But Reverend Richman knows the head of the local KKK
And says the elderly parishioners will keep the church alive

I walked into that town just a few months ago
And thought i’d maybe stop by God’s house
But Reverend Richman quickly informed me my God don’t live there no more
And it’s best that I be movin’ on and gettin’ out

He said, boy, we’ve no place for sinners like you
In this here building with these here saints
Their treasure’s in heaven and your heart cares a little too much
For the people down here whose treasure, well...ain’t

So I guess I’m sorry Reverend Richman for not gettin’ it right
I’m sorry I don’t always attend sunday school
Sorry I don’t speak tongues or tithe enough
Sorry I don’t agree with all your rules

Sorry I’m not entertained by your sermons
Sorry I believe Jesus meant what he said
And I guess if you don’t think that he did, well then
Why don’t you take your cross and trade with him instead

Yeah, gee, I’m sorry I’m not addicted to your opium
Sorry I’m not holy enough to wait in your line
I’m gonna go hang out with this homeless prophet I met recently
People call him the son of God and he’s a good friend of mine