Pity my brother 
For how he's suffered me 
Through nameless towns 
And cold prairie 
For restless women 
At the end of the line 
Who tendered checks for 
A promise divine 
Cash as quick as 'vegas' 
Like 'vegas' in a dream 
I work this charismatic ruse 
For my brother's peace and being 
Sittin' tight in moline 
The money on the bed 
With every memory sharp to me 
And the fear of times ahead 

CHORUS 
Maybe the good book 
Came from the divine 
Or maybe it was written 
Just to keep us in line 
The mistakes of the sages 
Make the rules for the fools 
So father forgive me 
For bendin' the rules... 

Well, mister he improved some 
With the money I scammed 
Some days his light shines as bright 
As the light of the promised land 
Death was often something 
We freely would discuss 
When he was ten and I was twelve 
And the spectre would often brush 
In and out of treatments 
Since twenty months of age 
At eighteen the insurance 
No longer would maintain 
And my old man in the kitchen 
His hands upon his face 
Did weep to shake his very soul 
In the darkness of this place 

CHORUS 

Hold me Saint Christopher 
Over every county line 
Overlook my blasphemy 
For the sake of buying time 
Grant him days of laughter 
Bestow me clemency 
He sleeps soft in the back seat 
His freedom from ordeal 
To every ruddy youngster 
Off free in summer's fields 
And every young lass poised to claim 
Her share of what love yields 
To all the grieving angels 
And the litany of saints 
I am my brother's keeper 
To what end decides the fates 

CHORUS