Adenine, the preacher's golden son
asleep in pulpit one,
never felt the need to cry
Before he spoke,
he knew the strength of hope
That faith's an illusion
and glory a lie.
A little healthy fear,
will keep our savior near
That's what his father preached,
the day before he died
and who can say,
what made the poison take,
there was venom in his veins
you know, but rapture in his eyes
Do you question glory?
Could the faithless form a line?
We've got hop for sale:
Kentucky's sacred child Adenine
Times were hard
Down by the old churchyard
the preacher's wife led Adenine
skipping through the mud
To the waiting man,
she said you'll understand
there's kindness in the child's heart,
but poison in his blood.
In the falling fain,
she watched them pull away
She waited for light bolt,
she held out for the flood
In the years to come,
he'd learn to trust no one,
but the bully-faced announcer
and the gold and silver gods
They came from near and far,
to see Kentucky's star,
the preacher's golden child,
with the venom in his veins,
and they called it faith
The Savior kept him safe
Trick or intervention,
sometimes it's all the same
And they left restored
Doubt and suspicion cured
Angels walk among us
and the rise above the flames
Still he showed no fear,
each time the snakes drew near
Hell had found him long before
he's lie down in the grave

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