Back Row Baptist

If the road to hell is paved with conversations with folks
About the savior true inside a dive bar filled with smoke
I guess you’d have to name foreman of a roadcrew small in size
A pioneer of sorts, blazing a trail to my demise

If we can’t pick the banjo to Heaven’s Jubilee
Because the didn’t mention it in first or second Pete
If that water down at woods creek’s got more power than the blood
I guess God oughta cast me out and count me as a dud

No, I don’t believe decrees of the modern pharisees
when I walk through the door on a blessed Sunday Morn
In the back, I take my seat

I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist
I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist

If I am on a coal train bound for hell and moving fast
Because my hair’s a bit too long or because I have a past
If I’m the engineer because religion tells you so
Then all aboard the long black train, you can wave bye as we go

No, I don’t believe decrees of the modern pharisees
when I walk through the door on a blessed Sunday Morn
In the back, I take my seat

I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist
I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist

I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist
I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist

I’m a back (in the back)
I’m a back (way back)
I’m a back row baptist

Copyright Daddy Bellwether Publishing