Lord Help Me Be The Kind Of Person (My Dog Thinks I Am) Songtext / Lyric

I try to get up every morning

with a smile and apply the golden ruel, But sometimes that old devil takes me, and I go acting like a fool

Dear Jesus I keep trying to be perfect, but I'm just a mortal man,

Lord help me be the kind of person my dog thinks I am.






Sometimes I go to church on Sunday, with Saturday's whiskey on my breath,

But I keep praying and promising to quit before I drink myself to death,

Help me walk the straight and narrow, change this light into a lamp,

Oh Lord help me be the kind of person my dog thinks I am.



I know he's just a mud, but he don't judge me when times get pretty hard, He fetches me my bible, and there is my liquor in the yard,



I can feel your love inside me Lord and I know that I'll be coming home someday. When I do, I pray you will find a pair of wings for old Jake.

Now the preacher's been really good to me, But I know who's really been there in a jam.

Lord help me be the kind of person my dog thinks I am,

Dear Lord help me be the kind of person my dog thinks I am.