It Ain't Wrong

Cold Chisel

It ain't wrong to steal a Bible

When you're poor and feeling low

There's no sense in those reliable

Lookin' down on those less so



Cause there's room at Jesus table

For all to come and go

The Host ain't quite as formal as some believe

You know Jesus was a wanderer

And the highway was his call

And his feet sometimes wore bandages

And his following was small

But his faith shone like the twelve-fifteen

On the subway station wall

He made it, and with his helping

I can make it too



And the Lord shall be my shepherd

Through the thick times and the thin

From the weeks' end queue for payroll

To the landlord's easy grin

Through the nights so cold and lonely

I just don't know where I've been

He will guide my footsteps homeward once again