Streets Of Gold

He stands on the street
With a jar at his feet
And his arms streched toward the sky

God's word in his grip
There's a song on his lips
I will not be denied

Winos walking past
See the change in his glass
And the devil takes control

They commit their sin
For a half pint of gin
To help fight off the cold

They're laugh found joke
Talked is old tattered cold
Sayin', "Preacher, pray for me"

Satan made us his slaves
Can three whores be saved
Will Jesus set us free?

He prays, "Father, please forgive them
For they know not what they do"
If there's no more room in heaven
For these forgotton few

Lord, give these beggars mansion
To these lost wandering souls
And when I get to heaven
I'll sleep on the streets of gold

He lays down his head on the mission's last bed
As they turn out the front porch light
There's a knock at the door
"Is there room for one more?"
"I'm sorry, not tonight"

But he gives up his place
For the sidewalk on eighth
Where the angels take his soul

To a mansion so fair
Built for many to share
There by those streets of gold

He prays, "Father, please forgive them
For they know not what they do"
If there's no more room in heaven
For these forgotten few

Lord, give these beggars mansion
To these lost wandering souls
And when I get to heaven
I'll sleep on the streets of gold

I'll sleep on the streets of gold
I'll sleep on the streets of gold



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Andrew Searle Barnes, Peter Norman Cullen Kelleher, Ruth Anne Cunningham, Benjamin Kohn, Candace Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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