Corey Smith

Skin of My Teeth

Corey Smith


Skin of My Teeth

Another Sunday morning, hungover and blue 
Smellin' like cigarettes and beer 
My mouth is dry, got bloodshot eyes 
And my head splittin' in two 
Church bells ringin' in my ear 

The high steeple, crowds are fillin' up, those sanctuary pews 
But I'm gonna hang around my crib 
Cause I don't like dressin' up 
I don't own a pair of Sunday shoes 
And I refuse to be another hypocrite 

Oh when I'm out drinkin', I wear a cross 
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost 
And when I meet my maker, I know he's gonna smile at me 
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth 

My grandma told me "Boy, you better straighten up 
Cause you're swervin down a bumpy road." 
She said "Put that damned old bottle down and pick your Bible up 
Get back in church, put on a choir robe" 
Oh but I can't see myself fallin' in line behind the preacher 
Hell, he's probably more messed up than me 
Always talkin' 'bout damnation, cursin' every unbeliever 
Who's he to judge? Who's he to condemn me? 

When I'm out drinkin', I wear a cross 
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost 
And when I meet my maker, I know he's gonna smile at me 
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth 

Half a loser, I'm half a winner 
I'm half a saint, and I'm half a sinner 
I feed my soul on Sunday dinner 
I'm every man of god 
When times get hard, I hit my knees 
And I praise the lord when he blesses me 
I do my best to keep him pleased 
I'm every man of god 
I'm every man of god 

When I'm out drinkin', I wear a cross 
I'm not really a righteous man, oh but I'm not lost 
And when I meet my maker I know he's gonna smile at me 
And I'll make it to heaven by the skin of my teeth