Confessions of a chronic lyric-misser

I have a bit of a reputation.

Not for great pitch.

Not for knowing all the words.

But for… confidently singing the wrong lyrics.

For years—years—I thought Forever in Blue Jeans by Neil Diamond was called:

“Reverend Blue Jeans.”

I sang it that way. Loudly. Repeatedly. Usually in the car… windows up, thankfully.

And honestly… it kind of worked.

“Reverend Blue Jeans” sounds like someone you’d trust.

Not flashy. Not polished. Just… present.

A pastor who shows up in denim.