Zach Bryan Writes Songs About Whiskey, Women, and God
Looking at the spiritual lyrics behind country music's next great songwriter
On September 7 of last year, Zach Bryan was arrested for obstruction. Getting handcuffed is never a minor thing, but if you’re gonna be an outlaw in country music, it feels standard fare. Who wouldn’t want to do what they can to have their faces etched in the Mount Rushmore of country music outlaws? Johnny Cash. Merle Haggard. Waylon Jennings. Those are gods of country music most up-and-comers can only dream of being.
Of the many mistakes in my life, none have gotten me arrested. I’ve never been handcuffed. I’ve never sat in the back of a police cruiser. It’s not that my life has been void of dumb decisions. It’s just that few of them would’ve counted as breaking the law.
It’s not that I want to have my mugshot posted for all the world to see. But I do know a thing or two about having the worst of myself exposed. The moments that feel hollow. It’s like a crash that’s destroyed the car and hurt the family and you have nothing, not anyone else to point the finger at but the man in the mirror. Or the man in the mugshot. Whichever fits best.
Zach Bryan’s seen some things. His legal troubles feel more like a blip for TMZ than anything else. It’s the years spent in the Navy. It’s the struggle of addiction for his mom and her tragic death. It’s a failed marriage, it’s a rise to fame, it’s a lot for a young man to handle.
So like most of us, Zach Bryan finds some solace in God.
You will not find him on local Christian radio stations. You will not find him preaching behind a pulpit. You will find him singing about life and God and how nothing makes sense but God’s in it all nonetheless. You will find him singing about his mom at the Grand Ole Opry. You will find him on stage overseas singing his smash hit “Something In The Orange” with a backdrop showcasing his lyric that says “The devil can scrap but the Lord has won.”
Zach Bryan is not the first to hold a Bible in one hand and a bottle in the other. He’s not the first to struggle with heartbreak and soul-searching. But he is aching to tell a story. There, in a beat-up Bronco, driving Oklahoma backroads, he’s driving. If not, he’s in the back with a guitar singing about the peaks and valleys and that nothing makes sense.
And when I hear certain songs, when the chords stretch over the air just right, I can see myself. I’m driving, gripping the steering wheel of my truck, the devil on one shoulder suggesting I swerve left into the bridge and into a river. But God is whispering from the other shoulder nudging me forward. Through tears, I scream at him like a madman asking why.
I guess Zach Bryan’s got some questions for the Lord too.
Here are a few of his prayers, dissertations, and half-jokes about God and trying his best to figure it all out.
God in deployment
Eighteen years old, full of hate
They shipped me off in a motorcade
They said, "Boy, you're gonna fight a war
You don't even know what you're fighting for"
I lost friends in the August heat
At night it was God I'd always meet
I said, "Lord, won't you bring me home?
I've got women in the West I wanna hold" (from “East Side of Sorrow”)
What’s it like to kill a man you don’t know in a desert? I don’t know what war is, but to serve in any capacity must test a man’s faith. The men (and women) over the decades who have been in the sun scorched Middle East or a Vietnamese jungle or a war-torn European village surely had moments wondering if they’d make it back home to hold a loved one. And hopefully, never let go.
God in addiction
Hey, driver, the boys are gamblin'
With more than just their cards
With their bottles and their drugs
And their Bibles and their hearts (from “Hey Driver”)
I’m not here to tell you Zach Bryan is the next Johnny Cash. But the kinship in battling demons is there, somewhere. I’ve met plenty of men who have thrown away the sacred things for one more drink, one more high. How tightly we hold to things that mean nothing when what really matters has been with us all along.
God in relationships
And by the time she wakes
I'll be halfway to my mama's home
It just dawned on me
Life is as fleeting as the passin' dawn
And it was my mistake
'Cause she never said a thing about Jesus
I miss my mother's southern drawl
And her prayin' through the walls in the evening (from “Dawns”)
Caedmon’s Call had a song decades ago about a dating relationship that went sour because the boy and the girl didn’t believe the same things about Jesus. I can only speak for myself that my heart would feel hauntingly hollow were it not for my wife’s relationship with God.
God in work
And I've been roofing houses atop of homes I can't afford
But I'm saving all my pennies and I'm prayin' to the Lord
One day we'll make it through all this barely gettin' by
I'm taking out my woman and we're dancin' barefoot tonight (from “Quittin’ Time”)
Our family dreams are owning a house on a nice plot of land with horses. Simple enough. But getting there feels impossible. We save our pennies. Dollars, even, when they come. And when that day comes we make it through the “barely gettin’ by”, we’ll dance. Maybe even barefoot.
God in capitalism
Them damn cold vampires been keeping me awake
Tryna build an empirе of the things that they can take
But don't lеt 'em steal your hope, child, and turn it something green (from “Cold Damn Vampires”)
When his dad questioned him about a video for the song “Cold Damn Vampires”, this was Zach Bryan’s reaction:
“I put up that video like 3 days ago and my dad calls me, he’s like a God-fearing man y'know. And he, uh, he says ‘Hey son… I’m really proud of you and all, but, you’ve been saying the F word a lot, y'know, and we like had like a moral, moral conversation and he – I guess I mostly agreed with him, but, after I put that video up like 3 of closest friends called me and they were like – 'Hey like is your health ok? Are you good? Is someone – are you good?’ And I just didn’t know what I said. And the reason I wrote this whole song was just because Verizon Wireless had given me a bill that was way overpriced.”
Resist the man, I say. I too have been gouged by the telecom industry. They’ll take a good slice of your paycheck, but don’t let ‘em steal your hope.
God in family
I'm movin' at God speed
Only God and my mama know what I need
And I feel the hardwood floors on my knees
As I beg you just to take it easy on me
I'm movin' at God speed (from “God Speed”)
They told you it would go quick, but you never tend to listen
Don't you miss your mama-boy hummin' hymnals in the kitchen? (from “Driving”)
First, second, and fourth stanzas. For some reason, we’d always skip the third. No matter the hymn. No matter what time in the service. If it was at the beginning or during the altar call.
As a kid, I would’ve been fine ending after the first. Wrap up this show and let’s go home. Then there were those Sundays where the Spirit was moving and we’d be six repetitions into “Just As I Am” and I’d be standing, keeping my knees from locking, trying not to fall asleep.
But I think back now to those Sunday mornings when Mom would press the black and white piano keys with such adoration for God that I had little choice but to turn down my own music. To quiet thoughts in my head. To feel that same reverence she felt.
And the prayers of my Dad. As long as they might be at times, they are only that because he believes with his entire being that God is there on the other end of the line listening intently like Dad’s strong voice is the only one speaking to Him.
I can spend these middle-aged days chasing every trend the world sends my way. But I need my daughters to see me singing, praying, and reading in a way that shows there’s more to life than what any digital screen might show. A way that shows the One, the Only One who loves them more than their Mom and Dad do.
God in childhood, God in the now
There's so much whiskey in his Coke, it'll make her nose bend
But she swears that his love is a damn godsend
She’s known God since she was a child (from “Oklahoma Smokeshow”)
The stories about God and the people in the Bible don’t create conflict until you begin to understand the gross humanity of people. How we’re all selfish and drawn toward the bad things of the world. Even the things we swear aren’t that bad.
The girl in the video for this song is stuck between two boys. Not men. Because even as we grow physically we’re still so prone to acting like children. Drinking, stealing, and holding the hearts of girls like loose pocket change that’s nice to have but we can do without.
And here’s this girl, certain of nothing but knowing there’s something more. Just like all of us are. Whether we’ll admit it or not.
I’ve never been arrested. I’ve never been handcuffed. Zach Bryan has, and he can tell you all about it if you really want to know. But somehow I still know what it feels like to be freed from a cold jail cell. I know what it’s like to have those cuffs unlocked.
And no one is perfect here. Not me. Not you. Not Zach Bryan. But we should all keep searching for the One who is in everything we do. Even if we’re not on a path to being a country music outlaw.