I try to get up every morning, with a smile, and apply the golden rule,
But sometimes that old devil tempts me, and I go acting like a fool,
Dear Jesus I keep trying to be perfect, but I'm just a mortal man,
Lord help me be the kinda person, my dog thinks I am.
verse 2
Sometimes I go to church on Sunday, with Saturday's whiskey on my breath,
But I keep praying and a promising to quit before I drink myself to death,
Help me walk the straight and narrow, change this light into a lamp,
Oh Lord help me be the kinda person, my dog thinks I am.
I know he's just a mutt, but he don't judge me, when times get pretty hard,
You betcha he's my bible, he buries my liquor in the yard.
Interlude
verse 3
I can feel your love inside me Lord and I know that I'll be coming home someday,
When I do I pray you'll find a pair of wings, for old Jake,
Now the preacher's been real good to me but I know whose really been there in a jamb,
Lord help me be the kinda person, my dog thinks I am.
Outro
Dear Lord help me be the kinda person, my dog thinks I am.