Fit For a King

Bobby Wood

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    His pulpit's a corner at 19th and main
    His grip on the gospel is his one claim to fame
    He hurls fire and brimstone at the cars passin' by
    He offers salvation from the savior on high

    His khakis are tattered, he ain't bathed in weeks
    His bouts with the bottle show up on his cheeks
    He looks like a scarecrow, a sight to behold
    While he works for the shepherd, bringin' lambs to the fold

    He points to the bible he holds in his hand
    Says, I'm proof that the good lord can save any man

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    Son, it ain't what you're drivin' or the clothes that you wear
    Material possessions won't matter up there
    Someday in heaven with the angels I'll sing
    And these rags that I'm wearin' will be fit for a king

    He's fightin' a fever, in spite of the chills
    He pulls up his collar and speaks of god's will
    His body is weakened but his faith is still strong
    He's filled with conviction for the mission he's on

    'Cause a mansion is waitin', he'll be homeless no more
    And his words will still echo from that far distant shore

    Son, it ain't what you're drivin' or the clothes that you wear
    Material possessions won't matter up there
    Someday in heaven with the angels I'll sing
    And these rags that I'm wearin' will be fit for a king

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