paroles de chanson
Nothing's
sacred,
the
days
are
cheap
Truth
is
thin
on
the
ground
Still
our
prophets
are
crucified
Nobody
believes
we're
stumbling
It's
Friday,
but
Sunday
is
coming
Someone's
saying
a
prayer
tonight
For
hungry
mouths
to
be
filled
Someone
kneels
in
the
dark
somewhere
And
darkness
is
already
crumbling
It's
Friday,
but
Sunday
comes
Sunday
– Hallelujah
– it's
not
so
far,
it's
not
so
far
away
Sunday
– Hallelujah
– it's
not
so
far,
it's
not
so
far
away
Broken
promises,
weary
hearts
But
one
promise
remains:
Crucified,
he
will
come
again
It's
Friday,
but
Sunday
is
coming
It's
Friday,
but
Sunday
is
coming
Sunday
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