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