Texty: Drive By Truckers. Late For Church.

I'm late for church again
Never seem to be on time
I hear the bell as it peals through the holler
Does it sound like a friend of mine

A hundred eyes turn as I enter
My face burnin' as I walk past pews
I can tell they think I'm a sinner
I hear them whisper while I'm watching my shoes

The only seat left is right up front
I'm not a bit surprised
The back is soft but the seat is hard
Why can't they get it right?

Reverend Bob is preachin' out thunder
Mom and Dad follow every last word
All that hollerin' makes me wonder
Does a whispered prayer get heard?

Reverend Bob is pointin' his finger
Fire and brimstone pouring down
Me, I'm wondering what's for dinner
Waitin' for 12 o'clock to come round

Everybody's got their own Heaven
They all find it their own ways
I am an angel, I, I am an angel, I
I am an angel, I am an angel