Blue Jean Jesus
He comes to speak to me
He's riding in an old Black Mustang
Cigarette Burning,
From his well placed lips
T-shirt's in tow, and a song on the radio
Blue Jean Jesus
says we'll be alright
He's got a blue collar job, like you and I
He's dusty, his scent
A mixture of old and freshly cut wood
Calloused hands take hold of mine
Blue Jean Jesus
He comes to visit me
He talks to me, and his company I keep.
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