By: Fee

She looked him up and down

And didn’t seem to like what she saw

The faded jeans, worn boots stubble

The man seemed just outside the law

He sat down in the last seat there

Beside this lady draped in prayer

Held his old stetson in his hands

All this pious lady did was glare

Excuse me sir this is God’s house

Not the place for the likes of you

By the looks of you I’d say your ill

You can’t die here in this pew

The cowboy only turned and smiled at her

Then rose slowly up from his seat

Well thank you ma’am for caring and I guess

the Lord don’t mind where I rest my feet

I bet he has a special place for you as well

Perhaps someday there again we’ll meet

Now I must tell you a story though

You know only the good die young

Well Ma’am I may live to be a hundred

Just like the song was sung

I’ve traveled down some winding trails

Worked dusk till dawn in soaring sun

Yet when the day was finally over

I drank my whiskery straight and neat

I loved a lot of women in my time

Who swept me off my tired feet

So yea I guess I’m not Angel material

Just an honest cowboy doing what I can

But I don’t judge nobody else in this world

I heard that’s the job not for us Ma’am

He turned and started walking down the aisle

The woman’s eyes glared at his back

When the whole church stood up and applauded

She knew he had the faith she lacked.