Hospital for Sinners

Some have crosses bells that ring

Most have angels painted with wings

Old men and blind ones can find their way in

Got statues and apostles and other godly things

In desserts they build them of mortar and clay

In barrios they stick them by fire escapes
They outlast the setbacks of earthquakes and plagues
They burn them like haystacks and another one is raised
In the backwoods of the country and the empire state

Wherever theres somebody at the crossroads that waits

At the junction of right now and a little too late
Youll see one before you with wide open gates

Its a hospital for sinners aint no museum of saints

There could be a casket bums on the steps
A baby in a basket being left

Its a good place to shuffle when youve gone through the deck
Its the closest to heaven on earth you can get

Its a shelter a poor man itll humble a great
Its where derelicts and outlaws can hide for a day
The worst hearts youve known can be salvaged and saved
In the room that same lovers vows are exchanged

Its a hospital for sinners aint no museum of saints

Youll sin till you drop
Then ask to be saved
If its a comeback you want
Then get your hands raised
Theres more than a few on nearly every map
More than a couple alone on this path
You ought to be in one when you beg your way back
Cut off at the knees at its feet youll collapse
Its a hospital for sinners aint no museum of saints
Its a hospital for sinners aint no museum of saints