Skin Of My Teeth

(альбом: In The Mood - 2004)

Another Sunday morning, hungover and blue
Smelling like cigarettes and beer
My mouth is dry, got bloodshot eyes
And my head splitting in two
Church bells ringing in my ear

The high steeple, crowds are filling up, those sanctuary pews
But I'm gonna hang around my crib
Cause I don't like dressing up
I don't own a pair of Sunday shoes
And I refuse to be another hypocrite

Oh when I'm out drinking, I wear a cross
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost
And when I meet my maker, I know he's gonna smile at me
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth

My grandma told me "Boy, you better straighten up
Cause you're swervin down a bumpy road."
She said "Put that damned old bottle down and pick your Bible up
Get back in church, put on a choir robe"
Oh but I can't see myself falling in line behind the preacher
Hell, he's probably more messed up than me
Always talking 'bout damnation, cursing every unbeliever
Who's he to judge? Who's he to condemn me?

When I'm out drinking, I wear a cross
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost
And when I meet my maker, I know he's gonna smile at me
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth

Half a loser, I'm half a winner
I'm half a saint, and I'm half a sinner
I feed my soul on Sunday dinner
I'm every man of god
When times get hard, I hit my knees
And I praise the lord when he blesses me
I do my best to keep him pleased
I'm every man of god
I'm every man of god

When I'm out drinking, I wear a cross
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost
And when I meet my maker I know he's gonna smile at me
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth