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Picking for the wait staff again, baring my soul up on stage Where my guitar's my only friend Slurring the words to a hit song from a bottle that never ends Mama says, Roy, get home, boy, before the devil does ya in Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Gideon's Bible on the nightstand Can't save me from the gates of hell Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Took 'em from their homes when they were young Five times I married, had kids with every one Never raised a hand in anger, scarred 'em, just the same Mama said, Roy, get home, boy, you're playing the devils game Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Gideon's Bible on the nightstand Can't save me from the gates of hell Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Washed in the blood of the lamb Laying in the bathtub, with a pistol in my hand Waiting on the reaper, to make my final stand Mama said, Roy, get after, boy, you're playing in the devil's band Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Gideon's Bible on the nightstand Can't save me from the gates of hell Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel