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Stained Hands, Lifted 1 by Alex

SongGPT
Stained Hands, Lifted 1 by Alex - country,male vocals music cover art

Stained Hands, Lifted 1

country,male vocals

0:003:58
Lyrics
Description
[Verse 1]
There’s a stool at McGraw’s under neon light,
He howled at shadows down on Main at night.
Bottle warm in his grip, tobacco on his breath,
Sawdust and whiskey, a town that knew regret.
He walked the town with two stained hands,
Cursing God and the weather and all his plans.
A porch by the church bell, paint peeling slow,
He’d laugh at Sunday like he didn’t know.
[Pre-Chorus]
But the rusted bell rang in a winter rain,
A hymn slipped out from an open door again.
Something in the air, a whisper through the band—
He heard a calling he could not withstand.
[Chorus]
Stained hands, lifted.
From McGraw’s stool to the churchyard gate,
Stained hands, lifted.
He walked on home, and he didn’t wait.
[Verse 2]
One cold night he stumbled on the steps alone,
Pastor Tom on the porch, said, “Son, come on in, come home.”
He dropped that bottle on the stone so hard it rang,
Kneeled in the cold pew, heard the choir sing.
Light through stained glass cut the dust from his face,
He felt the shame and the mercy take its place.
He walked the town with two stained hands,
Now they hold a Bible and they hold a band.
[Pre-Chorus]
Miss Lila’s hymnbook, cotton on her knees,
Sang him out of the dark with soft melodies.
The smell of coffee warming on Sunday plans—
A town watched as grace reached for his hands.
[Chorus - variation]
Stained hands, lifted.
From the barroom floor to the altar line,
Stained hands, lifted.
He found a voice and he found the vine.
[Bridge]
He tells about the stool and the neon night,
How the bell called his name and the preacher’s light.
He tells how Pastor Tom put a coat on his back,
How the choir wrapped truth around the cracks.
A single moment—bottle rolling in the rain,
A hymn in the doorway, a whispered name.
He tore the old hurt like a worn-out band,
And he walked the town with two stained hands.
[Verse 3]
Now he stands where the rafters catch the morning sun,
He counts the faces, one by one.
Kids on the front pew, elders closing their eyes,
He speaks plain truth where the old hurt lies.
No longer the bully beneath neon shame,
He brings them in by whispering God’s name.
He walks the town with two stained hands,
Leading Sunday revivals, turning corners of Main.
[Chorus - final]
Stained hands, lifted.
From McGraw’s stool to the churchyard gate,
Stained hands, lifted.
He walks on home and he doesn’t wait.
Stained hands, lifted.
Now he lifts them up for a hurting land,
Stained hands, lifted.
A small-town preacher with two stained hands.
[Outro]
In the hush by the rusted bell they say his name,
How he found the road and they found the same.
From bottle’s grip to the church door stand,
A testament to grace—two stained hands.
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