Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
Sunday Morning Jesus with a Bullhorn
“Ye miserable, crawlin’ worms. Are ye here again then?...You’re all damned! DAMNED!”
-from Amos Starkadder’s There’ll Be No Butter in Hell sermon to the Church of the
Quivering Brethren, Cold Comfort Farm
(Sinner, are you saved?!)
When he was sharin’ a bottle an’ a joint
He was much more likeable, a dirt-road drunk
But now he shares Jesus through a bullhorn
And notches souls on his Sears & Roebuck guitar
(God sent me to preach you to Heaven!)
He hates them town churches like he hates the devil
Lost a finger at the sawmill; carries groceries now
His mama gives him a ride to work each day
She says th’ cops is always a-pickin’ on him
(Don’t you go to Hell with them Methodists and Popists!)
She says th’ police don’t like him or Jesus
But he had convictions before he got Conviction
(And let th’ people say, “A-men!”)
