The Ballad of Preacher Joe

Look outside, the sky is falling Preacher Joe must be on his way The raven's gone the rooster's calling But Joe was king today He was kicked to the curb Holy Commotion But he finally had something to say Preach it Joe Joe was a buckshot preacher with the gift of gab With curly blonde hair and green eyes Hymnals and hymens, neither stood a chance He was shooting from the hips, for Christ His gospel might not get you into heaven But it'll sure get you through the night Hey Hey, Preacher Joe They'll hunt you down for sure Hey Hey, Preacher Joe Now look it up, Joe would say Here's what the Good Book's got for you You've got to spend your time down on your knees Come with me, I'll show you whatcha gotta do All the church ladies were faithful disciples If only the bishop knew Joe kept his Bible in between his legs He had a new scripture reader every night They'd be begging for a taste of his Holy Commotion In return for donations, it's only right It was all fun and games and dollar bills Till they caught him with the organist's wife Now dead men keep tracking poor old Joe They're trying to keep him in their sights They're counting his sins two by two On their barbed wire abacus at night He's got a Molotov cocktail in his kitchen sink But he's still bathing in Turkish delight Hey Hey, Preacher Joe They'll hunt you down for sure Hey Hey, Preacher Joe They finally caught up with Joe outside of town And stuck a couple nails in his wrists They beat that pretty blonde face to a bloody pulp But Joe knew the risks There might be a stranger way to make a couple of bucks But none quite as fun as this Now you'll find Joe out walking the streets There's still a little light in his eyes He's some kind of Moses in mohair with tin-foil shoes A fire sale consolation prize You know he still look good if you catch him in the right light Hey Hey, Preacher Joe They'll hunt you down for sure Hey Hey, Preacher Joe