I crossed that line with a flask in hand,
Boots full of sin and desert sand.
The preacher stared but didn’t speak,
Just rang that bell for the damned and weak.


I asked for grace, he gave me law,
A cross of nails and a toothless drawl.
I said, “If God’s so good, where’s he been?”
He said, “He left when you walked in.”


Ain’t no church in El Paso,
Just ghosts in the pews and a neon glow.
They sell salvation by the shot and line,
And the holy water tastes like wine.
I ain’t forgiven, but I won’t kneel slow –
'Cause there ain't no church in El Paso.




The choir sings in a bar at noon,
Where the jukebox hums an outlaw tune.
A girl with a cross and a serpent smile,
Said “Heaven’s just a longer mile.”


I’ve prayed with fists and kissed with guilt,
Built my faith where grace won’t build.
If there’s a light, it ain’t that white –
It flickers red in motel night.

Ain’t no church in El Paso,
Just broken saints with nowhere to go.
I found more truth in a sinner’s cry
Than a dozen sermons in July.
And if I burn, let the devil know –
There still ain’t no church in El Paso.


“If heaven wants me, it knows where I drink.”