[Intro]
Out here, hymns ain’t sung in pews
They screamed from a throat while a blade run through
Ain’t no gospel ‘cept what I bring
Just g*n smoke, b***d, and a gutbag swing
[Verse 1]
Got a hymnal full of m****r notes
Sing ‘em when I slit and I watch ‘em float
Every line I write got a body behind
And a shovel rust-red from the last one I lined
I don’t chant no prayers, I hum in pain
With a crow peckin’ brains in the pourin’ rain
That twitch hit strong, I go full divine
Preach in the pines with a sawed-off spine
Ain’t no preacher like a meth-laced man
Writin’ scripture with a butcher’s hand
I baptize fools in the creek so deep
They don’t float up when they start that sleep
[chorus]
This my gutbag hymn, my backwoods psalm
From the land of pain where the silence calm
Ain’t no choir, just the hogs that feast
On the sins I bury in the belly of the beast
[Verse 2]
That bloodline thumpin’ in my chest
Got kin in the hill that won’t rest
So I keep that book and I keep that blade
And I ride through dusk on a mission made
Preach to the lost, teach the betrayer
With a hacksaw voice and a heavy sprayer
That meth turn saints into wolves on edge
And we pray by lightin’ a pipe on the ledge
This the hymn for the plug, the mule, the trap
For the ones who cut and the ones who wrap
For the dirt-soaked boots and the twitchin’ eye
For the scream in the dark ‘fore the snitch boy die
[chorus]
This my gutbag hymn, my backwoods psalm
From the land of pain where the silence calm
Ain’t no choir, just the hogs that feast
On the sins I bury in the belly of the beast
[Verse 3]
They come for a hit, they leave in a bag
Got stitched in the gut like a burlap flag
Wave it high, this hillbilly reign
Where I cook, cut, k**l, then sing through the pain
I don’t do deals, I do tests of faith
You walk in wrong, I reseal that gate
Ain’t no Jesus down this ridge
Just me, my g*n, and a bone-made bridge
My sermons drip like moonshine thick
And my altar built from the ones I picked
So sing along if you still draw breath—
This hymn get louder at the hour of death
[chorus]
This my gutbag hymn, my backwoods psalm
From the land of pain where the silence calm
Ain’t no choir, just the hogs that feast
On the sins I bury in the belly of the beast
[Outro]
Now fold your hands ‘cause the end draw near
When Burlap preach, best plug your ear
This hymn don’t save, it drag you down
To the pines where the gutbags wear the crown
[Outro]
And when I go, don’t sing no song
Just slit one throat and keep marchin’ on
This is my scripture, stitched and grim—
Backwoods gospel, my gutbag hymn
