Fit For A King Lyrics - Sevens - Garth Brooks

His pulpit's a corner 

On 19th and Main 

His grip on the gospel 

His one claim to fame 

He hurls fire and brimstone 

At the cars passing by 

And he offers salvation 

For the savior on high 

His khakis are tattered 

And he ain't bathed in weeks 

His bout with the bottle 

Shows up on his cheeks 

He looks like a scarecrow 

A sight to behold 

As he works for the shepherd 

Bringin' lambs to the fold 

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He points to the Bible 

He holds in his hands 

Says I'm proof that the good Lord 

Can save any man 

Son, it aint what you're driving 

Or the clothes that you wear 

Material possessions 

Won't matter up there 

And someday in heaven 

When the angels all sing 

These rags that I'm wearin' 

Will be fit for a king 

He's fighting a fever 

In spite of the chill 

He pulls up his collar 

And he speaks of God's will 

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His body is weakened 

But his faith is still strong 

For he's filled with conviction 

For the mission he's on 

He knows soon in heaven 

He'll be homeless no more 

As his work will soon echo 

From that dar distant shore 

Son, it aint what you're driving 

Or the clothes that you wear 

Material possessions 

Won't matter up there 

And someday in heaven 

When the angels all sing 

These rags that I'm wearin' 

Will be fit for a king 

And someday in heaven 

When the angels all sing 

These rags that I'm wearin' 

Will be fit for a king