Oh, the little lady preacher from the limestone church
I'll never forget her, i guess
She preached each sunday mornin' on the local radio
With a big black bible and a snow-white dress
She was 19 years of age and was developed to a fault
But i will admit she knew the bible well
A little white lace hanky marked the text that she would use
She'd breathe into that microphone and send us all to hell
She had a guitar picker by the name of luther short
A hairy-legged soul lost out in sin
She would turn and smile at luther when the program would commence
With a voice as sweet as angels she would break out in a hymn
I was pickin' for her too with what we call the doghouse ba**
I clung to every word that pa**ed her lips
She was down on booze and cigarettes and high on days to come
And she'd punctuate the prophecy with movements of her hips
The lord knows how i loved her, he was there each time she preached
But ol' luther took her home each sunday morn'
Lookin' back i still recall the way it hurt my tender pride
I longed to be a hero but they're made not born
Sometimes ol' luther showed up at the studio half-tight
And smokin' was a thing he liked to do
She never said a word to him but said a prayer for me
I told her in a way that i'd been prayin' for her too
One sunday her old man showed up and said that she was gone
Said she and brother luther had a call
I can see me standin' in that studio that day
I had to face the heartbreak, unemployment and all
I don't know where they are 'cause i ain't seen them people since
Lord if i judge 'em let me give 'em lots o' room
I know ol' luther short and he's a hard ol' boy to change
And i've often sat and wondered who it was converted whom