garth brooks
fit for a king
His pulpit's a corner at 19th and Main His grip on the gospel is his one claim to fame He hurls fire and brimstone at the cars passin' by He offers salvation from the savior on high His khakis are tattered, he ain't bathed in weeks His bouts with the bottle show up on his cheeks He looks like a scarecrow, a sight to behold While he works for the shepherd, bringin' lambs to the fold He points to the Bible he holds in his hand Says, I'm proof that the good Lord can save any man Son, it ain't what you're drivin' or the clothes that you wear Material possessions won't matter up there Someday in heaven with the angels I'll sing And these rags that I'm wearin' will be fit for a king He's fightin' a fever, in spite of the chills He pulls up his collar and speaks of God's will His body is weakened but his faith is still strong He's filled with conviction for the mission he's on 'Cause a mansion is waitin', he'll be homeless no more And his words will still echo from that far distant shore Son, it ain't what you're drivin' or the clothes that you wear Material possessions won't matter up there Someday in heaven with the angels I'll sing And these rags that I'm wearin' will be fit for a king