Bible On The Table - Creed Fisher

His collars blue his neck is red

Works hard all day to keep his family fed

Feels like he sold his soul for the bills he pays

But every night at supper he still says Grace

Cause He was raised to love Jesus and the USA

When You grow up in the South you’re raised that way

You won’t hear him bitch and moan about it

He’s Old School and that just ain’t his way

He’ll roll up his sleeves

Gonna do the best he can

With a Bible on the table

A shot of Whiskey in his hand

His hands are like leather from the long hard days

Cause when you’re raising three kids you don’t get no breaks

The love of his life passed away last year

He was right by her side when she shed her last tear

No time to feel lonely no time to slow down

He’s gotta stay strong cause he’s mom and daddy now

You won’t hear him bitch and moan about it

He’s Old School and that just ain’t his way

He’ll roll up his sleeves

Gonna do the best he can

With a Bible on the table

A shot of Whiskey in his hand

He’s on his own now

Gotta do the best he can

With a Bible on the table

A shot of Whiskey in his hand

There’s a Bible on the table

A shot of Whiskey in his hand