Sunday Best

Well, I pulled up, to that church of Christ With a broken heart, and bloodshot eyes Too hungover to go inside So, I hung my head and drove on by And I don't feel like Hallelujah With this aching in my chest So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds Drinking in my Sunday best Thought I really, really knew him well He was the one, far as I could tell But last night I caught him with somebody else And yeah, that preacher's son can go to hell And I don't feel like Hallelujah With this aching in my chest So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds Drinking in my Sunday bеst And yeah, I know that I'll get over him in timе But right now, forgiveness ain't something I can find And I don't feel like Hallelujah With this aching in my chest So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds Drinking, and I'm a mess Yeah, I'm drinking in my Sunday best When I pulled up to that church of Christ Oh, I'm gonna be here just drinking It's somethin' silly Hell, Jesus turned water into wine Hmm, pour me another one, hahaha Whoo, I'm drunk