Sunday

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…