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Vinyl Pews
We bring in our patrons with a neon light
Service begins the moment the sun dims
We testify through burning cigarettes
Hymns stutter out of lips soaked in gin
We collect payment from a basket dusted by broken shells
Confessions slip between the counter and a bartender's whim
We search for God after the empty glass hits the felt table
Last call comes with a broken bell
We slide from the vinyl pews with our eyes on another dawn
The doors close, but we'll be back with pockets full of sin
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Vinyl Pews
Vinyl Pews