On a lowly night like any other in a place I’m known to go
To croon a song to a patient throng of folks that you might know
I sang the songs of hard times
Hard feelings and hardened hearts
But nothing seemed to grab them until a patron, he remarked:
Won’t you play it in:

G for Jesus, and let your holy spirit show
Keep your pains and your midnight trains
And onto higher ground you’ll go
Don’t sing the songs about whiskey and I’m so lonesome that mama tried
Play it in G for Jesus and you might leave this bar alive

So I swallowed hard and i scanned the bar for an exit that I might tread
It occurred that I might could see the light if it meant I could earn my bread
I strummed this chord to the waiting lord
And fixed him in my gaze
And no minor key escaped me
While old Gabrielle’s trumpet played
And I played it in:

G for Jesus, I let my holy spirit show
I kept my pain and my midnight trains
And onto higher ground I’ll go
I won’t sing the songs about whiskey and I’m so lonesome that mama tried
I’ll play it in G for Jesus
Though none of us leave this world alive
No, you won’t leave this world alive
None of us leave this world alive