Fame infame

I’m a preacher
Sweating in the pew
For the salvation
I’m bringing you
I’m a salesman
I’m sending you hooks
And plans
And myself
I’m making demands

When I’m home alone I just can’t stop myself
And you pull my hips so close
I can go for the truth
Signing off, I’m alright in bed
But I’m better with a pen
The kid was alright
But it went to his head

And I am God’s gift
But why would He bless me
Church wits without
A conscience acquits
And I’m addicted to the way I feel

To the way I think of you
Too much drink
I feel blue

When I’m home alone I just can’t stop myself
And you pull my hips so close
I can go for the truth
Signing off, I’m alright in bed
But I’m better with a pen
The kid was alright
But it went to his head

When I’m home alone I just can’t stop myself
And you pull my hips so close
I can go for the truth
Signing off, I’m alright in bed
But I’m better with a pen
I’m alright in bed
But I’m better with a pen
I’m alright in bed
But I’m better with a pen
The kid was alright
But it went to his head