“The Preacher Lies” – Lyrics
The Preacher Lies
© Jackson Rodgers
Well, we rambled ’round a bit before we moved to Center Hill
But Lord knows how I ever lived anywhere else
Here the soil is world-famous and we catch brim by the side of the road
Now how could anyone ask for anything else
Chorus:
Well, Rose’s in the kitchen, George is on the stereo
Singin’ my son’s favorite all about where grass won’t grow
There’s a breeze here on the porch and there’s a beer in my right hand
Boys, the preacher lies, this here’s the promised land
Well, our house here may not be much, but it was built with my own hands
And I’m proud to say that we have no debt
We got ourselves a little savings, and we grow more than we can eat
Now that’s about as good as good can get
Chorus:
When Rose’s in the kitchen and George is on the stereo
Singin’ my son’s favorite all about where grass won’t grow
There’s a breeze here on the porch and there’s a beer in my right hand
Boys, the preacher lies, this here’s the promised land
Yeah, the preacher lies, this here’s the promised land