I knew a preacher
From Atlanta, Georgia
He was a preacher’s son
Sunday mornin’ in the pulpit
Wit’ the spirit
Friday night havin’ his
Funky like dat
Blues funky like dat
He wore Stacy Adams shoes
Stetson hat
An’ when he’d had enough whisky
He’d sing the blues
Funky like dat
Blues funky like dat
He tol’ me, Son, in every sinner
There’s a little bit of saint
In every saint
There’s a little sinner
Funky like dat
Blues funky like dat
He had a store-front church
On Auburn
You could hear it rock
The Hallelujah Corner clappin'
So loud
Way down the block
Funky like dat
Blues funky like dat
