Featured In
Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Michael Ray
Vocals
Danny Rader
Acoustic Guitar
Ross Copperman
Programming
Fred Eltringham
Drums
Rob McNelley
Electric Guitar
Dave Cohen
Keyboards
Steve Mackey
Bass Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ashley Gorley
Songwriter
Hunter Phelps
Songwriter
Michael Hardy
Songwriter
Ben Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ross Copperman
Producer
Joel McKenney
Assistant Recording Engineer
Buckley Miller
Recording Engineer
Trey Keller
Editing Engineer
Luke Reynolds
Vocal Recording Engineer
Andrew Mendelson
Mastering Engineer
Scott Johnson
Assistant Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Somewhere inside them back Florida pines
There's a town with a Choctaw name
There's a little white church in a real tight curve
On the edge of a field full of grain
Yeah, the preacher was a standup man shakin' hands
Every Sunday mornin' at the door
He loved his congregation, but he ran an operation
Sellin' more than the word of the Lord
And he called it holy water
He called it holy water, yeah
[Verse 2]
He bought a brand new Lincoln, had a couple deacons thinkin'
It was more than he could afford
They knew somethin' was up when he was shuttin' his trunk
At the church around one in the mornin'
When he was out of sight, they snuck around inside
And found a door leadin' under the ground
They popped the lock on the latch
Walked down and flashed their lights, and guess what they found
A cellar full of holy water
[Chorus]
No one knows where it comes from, buddy
But you can find it anywhere from 'Bama to Kentucky
Got the whole damn southeast side of the country
Linin' up to pay top dollar
Jar tops twist when the sun starts settin'
It burns like hell, get you high like heaven, and Lord
Have mercy if they knew where they were gettin' that holy water
[Verse 3]
Well, the deacons pulled up to his house in a truck
With the proof all crystal clear
He tried to play it off but he knew he was caught
So he said, "Brothers, listen here
You can call the law or you can keep a secret
I'll cut you in and we can call it even"
Next Sunday mornin' 'round ten o' clock
There was two more Lincolns in the parkin' lot
[Chorus]
No one knows where it comes from, buddy
But you can find it anywhere from 'Bama to Kentucky
Got the whole damn southeast side of the country
Linin' up to pay top dollar
Jar tops twist when the sun starts settin'
It burns like hell, get you high like heaven, and Lord
Have mercy if they knew where they were gettin' that holy water
[Outro]
Now, there's new stained glass, new pews front to back
Nobody even asked no questions
And a sign out front with some letters readin'
John, Chapter two, verse 1:11
Written by: Ashley Gorley, Ben Johnson, Hunter Phelps, Michael Hardy