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Trust Jesus
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Slobberbone
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Traveling salesman, the road was his love as he
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Carved a path through all the struggle and the strife of this
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Great big nation falling to its knees
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Oh lord, please
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Give us the strength
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The World Book was his trade but paint was his tool
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A Chrystler his engine but the Good Book his fuel
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Concrete his canvas, his message was simple
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And at the start of everyday he would pray:
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Lord, I'm only just one man
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Lord, I've only got two hands
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Lord, I'll do the best I can
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San Diego to Boston and all points between
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From Brownsville, Texas up to Canada in the spring
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From the Great Smoky Mountains to the Bitteroot Range
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It's all the same
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Some'd say he's a messenger and some would say a sage
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Some would say a vandal but I guess it's hard to gauge
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Travel any highway in this land and you can probably catch his track
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But you won't ever catch him in the act
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Lord, I'm only just one man
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Lord, I've only got two hands
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Lord, I'll do the best I can
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Now one day this world is gonna curl up and burst
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It's gonna choke on it's own tongue and die of it's own thirst
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Until that day comes our roads will always be long
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But he's left signposts to guide us along
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On overpass columns from Mexico to Maine
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The color may vary but the message doesn't change
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He knows he's not judged by his works, he does it just the same
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And at the start of every day he would pray:
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Lord, I'm only just one man
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Lord, I've only got two hands
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Lord, I'll do the best I can
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Lord, help me help them to understand
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