| You say the Lord called you early one morning
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| Telling you to preach
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| So you opened up a big ole church in Miami Beach
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| You gotta hotline to heaven
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| And it puts you in control
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| The only thing you’re missing now baby is forgiveness in your soul
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| Well it sounds like somebody else’s Jesus,
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| Somebody else’s Jesus
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| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
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| Sure don’t sound like mine
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| You say money won’t make a man happy
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| Or cure anybody of sin
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| So open out that purse and that wallet
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| And send the green stuff in
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| The preacher he’s praying so hard for you
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| But miracles take time
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| So thank you for your patience
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| And all those nickels and dimes
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| Well it sounds like somebody else’s Jesus,
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| Somebody else’s Jesus
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| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
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| Sure don’t sound like mine
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| My Jesus won’t judge me
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| If I don’t go to church one time
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| And if I don’t put money in your plate
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| He’s gonna love me just fine
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| The voice it sounds so dog gone righteous
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| Just quivering in prayer
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| And you wave around that big ole Bible like a shotgun in the air
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| Well we’re all of us God’s children
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| And he loves us as his own
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| So point that finger right back at yourself
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| Before you throw that stone
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| Well it sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
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| Somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sure don’t sound like
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| Somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sounds like somebody else’s Jesus
|
| Sure don’t sound like mine |