False Idols in Okay

I found faith in the bottom of a bottle,
In rooms filled with cigarette smoke,
Cocaine warriors,
And women for hire,
I found comfort in the distance from emotion
When the pain came back, I just asked God for another
The whiskey sting caressed my lips
And I swallowed every time
Cuz He obliged me every time
But then I saw him once
And he wasn't god, 
And it wasn't faith,
And it wasn't comfort,
He was just a bartender with a fancy beard 
He obliged just the same
Only this time, I was empty