Pity My Brother



For How He's Suffered Me



Through Nameless Towns



And Cold Prairie



For Restless Women



At The End Of The Line



Who Tendered Checks For



A Promise Divine



Cash As Quick As "vegas"



Like "vegas" In A Dream



I Work This Charismatic Ruse



For My Brother's Peace And Being



Sittin' Tight In Moline



The Money On The Bed



With Every Memory Sharp To Me



And The Fear Of Times Ahead



CHORUS



Maybe The Good Book



Came From The Divine



Or Maybe It Was Written



Just To Keep Us In Line



The Mistakes Of The Sages



Make The Rules For The Fools



So Father Forgive Me



For Bendin' The Rules...



Well, Mister He Improved Some



With The Money I Scammed



Some Days His Light Shines As Bright



As The Light Of The Promised Land



Death Was Often Something



We Freely Would Discuss



When He Was Ten And I Was Twelve



And The Spectre Would Often Brush



In And Out Of Treatments



Since Twenty Months Of Age



At Eighteen The Insurance



No Longer Would Maintain



And My Old Man In The Kitchen



His Hands Upon His Face



Did Weep To Shake His Very Soul



In The Darkness Of This Place



CHORUS



Hold Me Saint Christopher



Over Every County Line



Overlook My Blasphemy



For The Sake Of Buying Time



Grant Him Days Of Laughter



Bestow Me Clemency



He Sleeps Soft In The Back Seat



His Freedom From Ordeal



To Every Ruddy Youngster



Off Free In Summer's Fields



And Every Young Lass Poised To Claim



Her Share Of What Love Yields



To All The Grieving Angels



And The Litany Of Saints