| I left my family and my home
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| To fight the battle on my own
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| I stole a car and drove away
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| But in my hate St. Paul did say
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| Glorify the Lord above
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| With your drink and making love
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| Glorify the Lord, my son
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| With your whiskey and your guns
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| I shot my foe, now I feel better
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| I beat my wife, now I feel sad
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| I curse my brother and my friend
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| I broke my mother’s heart again
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| Glorify the Lord above
|
| With your drink and making love
|
| Glorify the Lord, my son
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| With your whiskey and your guns
|
| And I’ll tune my heart and tune my strings
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| And see what giving thanks might bring
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| For all I have was always thine
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| But I was fool to think it mine
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| Glorify the Lord above
|
| With your drink and making love
|
| Glorify the Lord, my son
|
| With your whiskey and your guns
|
| We’ll glorify the Lord above
|
| With your drink and making love
|
| Glorify the Lord, my son
|
| With your whiskey and your gun
|
| Well if your stay or if you go
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| Or if you stand or you’re brought low
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| We’ll drink the wine, we’ll eat the bread
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| But don’t forget what Jesus said
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| Glorify the Lord above
|
| With your drink and making love
|
| Glorify the Lord my son
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| ‘till your work on earth is done
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| I said to glorify the Lord above
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| Oh if you’ve plenty, if you’ve none
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| Glorify the Lord my son
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| With your whiskey and your gun |