God's Own Singer Lyrics - Flying Burrito Brothers

Straight backed chair and a table 

Where he sits when he's able 

To walk over from bedridden misery 

To record from his thoughts 

On a worn out table cloth 

Where he'd been while 

His mind breaks sleeplessly 

Though his body's bent with age 

You know, he's still out on that stage 

Entertaining all his friends 

That pause to greet him at the door 

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Forty nine years out on the road 

Many nights he'd saved a soul 

Now he sits and waits 

To claim his own reward 

God's own singer of songs is going home 

Though he's poor, he might be 

The richest one you know 

Photos 

All his pain will set him free 

Wash his soul and cleanse him clean 

God's own singer of songs is going home 

God's own singer of songs is going home