Picking for the wait staff again, baring my soul up on stage
Where my guitar's my only friend
Slurring the words to a hit song from a bottle that never ends
Mama says, Roy, get home, boy, before the devil does ya in

Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel
Gideon's Bible on the nightstand
Can't save me from the gates of hell
Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell
Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel

Took 'em from their homes when they were young
Five times I married, had kids with every one
Never raised a hand in anger, scarred 'em, just the same
Mama said, Roy, get home, boy, you're playing the devils game

Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel
Gideon's Bible on the nightstand
Can't save me from the gates of hell
Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell
Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel

Washed in the blood of the lamb
Laying in the bathtub, with a pistol in my hand
Waiting on the reaper, to make my final stand
Mama said, Roy, get after, boy, you're playing in the devil's band

Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel
Gideon's Bible on the nightstand
Can't save me from the gates of hell
Nothing more to offer, no more soul to sell
Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel

Lord, don't let me die in a cheap motel

Writer : DAYTON, JESSE / TEMPLE, LEW
Copyright : Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.