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A Loser Singin "Victory in Jesus" © 2003 Tom Hale Workin hard at havin fun—how screwed up can you get? Last call came and went and we weren’t havin any yet. The slushy sidewalk seemed the perfect setting for my soul Like our not-quite white Christmas, kind of shallow and cold A guy who could as soon pass for a lawyer as a loon Flagged us as my ears picked up a faint, familiar tune. He crossed the street a runnin, kickin up the winter slop And pointed back behind him as he skidded to a stop. He said it like he thought the news would please us, "There’s some loser singin ‘Victory in Jesus.’" I’d blown a lot of money just to smell like smoke and lime I felt ripped off and like somebody owed me a good time The music got clearer as we herded toward the sound A brass band can almost make up for an ugly town Enough circus to make one’s imagination spin But just enough good gospel news to bring us down again Hard livin makes it hard to guess a body’s actual age As rough and fragile as the orange crate she used for a stage Through salty tears that made the key of G rust She warbled about victory in Jesus. She used to sing that same song when she was just a girl In our little church back home—it sure is a small world About as graceful as a pogo stick without a spring She wasn’t much to look at, but man, that girl could sing It was her way of escaping from a world as dark as dirt Some mental morphine to forget a while how much life hurt It was the only positive attention that she got "Yonder goes a loser," said the kettle to the pot. Can’t help but thinkin someday, somehow, we must Pay for laughin at that little friend of Jesus. Now, as then, that sick, thin woman’s voice was clear and strong She couldn’t buy a blessing, but she sure could sell that song She looked like she believed it for a minute or few Perhaps what matters most is she made us believe it too It never hurts to open up, let in a little light Part of me was pullin for her, wishin she was right Who’s that in her moist brown eyes reflected, lookin back? It makes me want to cut myself and others lots of slack If we could see each other as God sees us We might relate to victory in Jesus. That low-down lady gave my saggin spirit quite a lift It had taken several decades to appreciate the gift I felt a stab of gratitude that put me in my place. What could I complain about—at least with a straight face? When it comes to religion, I don’t prefer any brand They all bring hope and peace—at least any of them can When it’s been a month of Sundays since we’ve drawn a winning card When life sneaks up on us and hits us real hard He or She always sends something to release us Like some loser singin "Victory In Jesus."
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