I remember daddy held a bible like a gun Back when I was a Pentecostal gospel preacher's son And I can still see the fire and brimstone in his eye When he'd preach to people Me I'd sneak out back with some saintly southern girl There I'd teach her the ways of this world Well guess I was way too wild to be the child of a preacher man One foot on a solid rock and one on the sinking sands Just like the prodigal son I guess I got way too lost Living somewhere in between the Devil and the Cross I was daddy's worst nightmare By the time I turned 18 Baptized in whiskey on the street of New Orleans Demons drugs and rock and roll I learned the hardway One night I headed home