Gospel Singer - Eric Burdon

In the town of Tifton, Georgia

On a hot and dusty day

You could see the heat coming off the ground

Up the street a man came a-running

Stumbling on his way

And he shouted that the gospel singer

Was a-comin' to our town

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

He was born in Tipton, Georgia

With just for sense to his gold

And his hair was as golden as the sun

Drinking women were his friends

But the people did not know

That he did not live in the songs he sung

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

Hallelujah the gospel singer is a-coming

Now in a tent, a thick tarpaulin

In a pasture near the town

The people came and waited all day long

Now, there were some who could not walk

Anothers who could not see

But it was believed that he could help them

With his songs

But the singer he had grown tired

Of the life that he had lived

And to sick and cripple, rich and poor

Here is what he said

'I cannot cure your illness

Lord, I cannot make you see

'Couse I have loved your women

And I sing to you for money'

In the town of Tipton, Georgia

The sun was arising

But not a soul was seen out on the street

But some had gathered in the pasture

And were staring silently

At the shadow of the singer

'Neath the tall and lonesome pine tree

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

To your town, to your town

We want to turn it down, turn it down

Burn it now, burn it

Hallelujah the gospel singer is coming

Hallelujah, Lord

I lied to you, I lied to you

I lied