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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