(Kurt Stevenson, Patrick Winningham, & Chris Boesel)



I'm an outcast that no one can save anymore

and the days of my youth, have all long gone by

I was the kind of boy the devil would offer a

smoke or a drink to or a ride downtown to some God forsaken land.

One Sunday morning at dawn you know they baptized my soul

but they held me down so long Christ I almost drowned

Yeah I was the kind of boy who never learned to smile

so I kicked and I screamed

'till I tore myself lose from all

these great big hands Oh Yeah Chorus:

Wiseblood knows I walk the way the wind blows

Wiseblood hears grace whisper right behind

My momma, she turned around and said

"Little boy you better wake up.... cause you're the walking dead"

Oh she was the kind a girl

who never touched a smoke or a drink she just smoldered like an empty church left to burn in the wind