I go to see a girl-friend;
My clothes are nice and neat.
I comb the hair on my head
And shine the shoes on my feet.
My best friend is getting married;
He's asked me to be "best man."
I want to make his wedding great,
So I dress the best I can.
I'll attend a funeral tomorrow;
I will look my very best.
A brand new shirt and tie,
Plus a new suit and vest.
Now it's Sunday morning;
I will worship God today.
My clothes won't be too tidy,
And my hair in disarray.
My shirt will be open,
To show the hair on my chest...
And I'm not really too concerned,
Whether or not my pants are pressed.
Why is it when before mere men.
I want to look my best,
But when I come to worship God,
I don't care how I'm dressed?