The Gig That Matters - Amy Ray, Phil Cook, Brad Cook

I’m practicing for the gig that matters

In the sky, in the sky

I’m singing for all my friends to gather

When they fly, when they fly

Gonna say hey St. Peter, listen to my song here

I been writing all my life

I know you’ve heard every golden-throated angel

But I heard redemption, it knows no bounds

Too many days, I lived a life of leisure

While folks were starved for food and rest

And it’s true, I drank from the cup of the righteous

while the Devil’s song played in my head

But my redeemers they have been many

And I can’t help but change my tune

So I’m practicing for the gig that matters

So I can sing this world of truth.

Every drunk that I played for

Kept me right, kept me right

Every wayward preacher and aimless soldier

Kept me in line, kept me in line

This is a song for all the sinners

Who never knowed they made the difference

And the working Saints abandoned in the trenches,

The Lamb of God lost in the wood

I’m practicing for the gig that matters

I want to see my savior’s face

When St. Peter says sing your song child

And I’ll let you through these pearly gates

Gonna say hey Lordy I’m here to bear some witness

No disrespect but, just in case you missed it

There’s some long haul suffering broken folks

that need mending

And they ain’t seen your help yet