Hey there now, mister, step into this bar;
I see by your face you’ve come from afar.
I’ll show you salvation under a star:
It’s that bright neon light you’ve been eyein’.
You’ve traveled a weary, worrisome road;
Been through more troubles than Job ever knowed;
Well, this here’s the place where comfort is stowed,
So sit down on that stool, and stop cryin’.
Some folks will tell you that liquor’s impure;
They’ve seen no hardships they’ve had to endure.
If life is your poison, I got the cure;
So let’s start with a beer: my throat’s dryin’.
Those teetotal fools have all been deceived
By clean-livin’ lies that can’t be believed.
So fill up your glass, and you’ll be reprieved.
Your soul needs the good stuff, ’cause it’s dyin’.
My gospel’s the bottle; it set me free.
Now I’m a preacher a-preachin’ on thee:
Sobriety’s sinnin’, plain as can be.
So I’ll have a whiskey, and you’re buyin’.