Текст песни Sunday Best - Lainey Wilson

Well, I pulled up, to that church of Christ
With a broken heart, and bloodshot eyes
Too hungover to go inside
So, I hung my head and drove on by

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday best

Thought I really, really knew him well
He was the one, far as I could tell
But last night I caught him with somebody else
And yeah, that preacher's son can go to hell

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking in my Sunday bеst

And yeah, I know that I'll get over him in timе
But right now, forgiveness ain't something I can find

And I don't feel like Hallelujah
With this aching in my chest
So here I sit out on some backroad paper sack and Marlboro reds
Drinking, and I'm a mess
Yeah, I'm drinking in my Sunday best

When I pulled up to that church of Christ
Oh, I'm gonna be here just drinking
It's somethin' silly
Hell, Jesus turned water into wine
Hmm, pour me another one, hahaha
Whoo, I'm drunk