You might call me insane or crazy
but I don't think you're a Christian lady
I see in your dress and high heels
carrying your bible like a sword of steel
But I seen that same dress
when it's dirty and wrinkled
Your face make up running
and the good book put away
You might call me a sinner lady
But I don't think you're Christian lady
I know that I'm not one of the angels
I just don't fit that label
I'm just a man who knows his limits
Waiting for the reaper to pay me a visit.
Who am I to cast the first stone?
Living in a humble shack I call my home...
So you worship in a big ole church
Made of brick and stone
I pray to God wherever I roam.
No one calls me I don't need a phone...
The lord is my shepherd I fear no one
I look forward to the new day's sun
Who do you call on when you need someone?
Your pastor? A friend? or could it be anyone?
You only call me when you want some fun...
You might call me a sinner lady...
But I don't think you're Christian lady...
