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 best

And yeah, I know that I'll get over him in time

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

I'ma be just sittin' here drinking or something silly

Hell, Jesus turned water into wine

Mmm, Pour me another one

Whoo, I'm drunk