Lyrics

Dontcha tell the preacher what I did last Sunday morning
I didn't go to church but convened with the Lord at home
I drank lemonade with rum, got my nails done
Hot pink toes with high-heel feather slippers

While the preacher was shoutin bout brimstone at half past ten
I had a hot bubble bath and drank lemonade with gin
I let the water run, had myself some fun
Closed my eyes and let the Spirit take me

Sweet Lord Jesus, you know how devout I am
Won't you please warm that cold-hearted preacher man

When the gospel choir sang roundabout eleven
I had a little frolic that took me straight to Heaven
The gardener and I got frisky, we drank lemonade with whiskey
Played croquet and tangled in the roses

Sweet Lord in Heaven, you know how devout I am, won't you please warm that cold-hearted preacher man!

At noon when they served up coffee to the congregation
The Lord came to me in a H
heavenly visitation
He said, I like lemonade fine, but I'd rather turn it into wine
I said, Lord thy will be done as it is in Heaven

Dontcha tell the preacher what I did
No dontcha tell the preacher what I did Dontcha tell the preacher what I did last Sunday morning!