Baptist Fashion Show

BAND
Da Da Da Da, Da Da Da Da

MOTHER
These catty church bitches give
me the blues,
And Lord, look at these
shoes...

NARRATOR
And you know...
Church people were all about
the shoes.

BAND
Mama says you gotta go
To the Baptist Fashion Show...

NARRATOR
Silk ties, shiny purses, fancy
hats, and jewels.

BAND
Mama says you gotta go...
Jesus gonna save your soul.

NARRATOR
And that Christian catwalk was
real unforgiving...

BAND
Mama says you gotta go,
But she didn't wanna go...

NARRATOR
...to anyone who couldn't fit in
for a living.

BAND
Mama says you gotta go...
To the Baptist Fashion Show...

NARRATOR
Holy war on Sunday morning...
It was war on Sunday
morning...

Now the church on Adams
Boulevard is usually a bore.
The ladies wave fans and the
old men snore.
The kids cut up on cue in the
very back pew,
And the Holy Ghost ain't been
here since 1972.

They got real estate, college
funds, jobs with benefits,
Home-owners, debutantes...

YOUTH
This place is as phony as it
gets.

NARRATOR
LOOK!
Everybody sharp,
Ain't not one head nappy.
But it's been a long time since
the church got happy.
And with their judgmental eyes,
See, they've all just realized...

PHILISTINES
Fourteen years old and still
ain't been baptized...

NARRATOR
Now just as he thought, "This'll
be a nightmare come true,"
His conviction turned to ice in
that chilly church pew,
His convication turned to ice in
that chilly church pew.

YOUTH
Jesus'll make it back here
before I do.

NARRATOR
He saw the brownskin-ded
ladies in their oversized crowns,
And the jet-black deacons with
them "Don't you do that"
frowns,
And the high yellow girls in
their skin-tight gowns,
A collection of verbs disguised
as nouns.

And ev'ry Sunday she pushed
him,
But she never wanted to go.
Ev'ry Sunday he listened,
But he didn't want to know.

It's too bad they never talked
about,
The shared truth that dwelled
below:
Who could handle the pressure
of this Baptist Fashion Show?



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