Luyện nghe bài hát Sunday's Best

Always said prayers,
a good boy should, like a good boy should,
Fingers pressed against the cold glass window watching so free, stars so free

You run but where,
Even if you could, if you could,
You could try but youd run fast enough to not be seen, not be seen

Every morning
You would go to church
in Sunday clothes,
leads a choir of angels, if theyd only know
But theyll know, never know

The name of god is taken in vain
But the of god is known to cause a multitude of pain,
When he speaks through daddy
And he isnt pleased
So your foul ungrateful mouth and get down on your knees

And you seen my wounded Jesus
Bloodied son of a mean touch
Nothing the cold shoulder of a pious man to
Show you what true faith in gods cant do

looks away
You know she got a dose of that yesterday
Her made
Will someday set you free, set you

She will not
Her in front of god naively prayed,
After years of living questioning
She still believes, she still believes, she still

And have you my wounded Jesus
Bloodied son of a preachers mean
like the cold shoulder of a pious man to
Show you what true in gods love cant do

And I can blame his painful
On the unyielding arm of his religion
Dont know whether to stay a part of things
Or his eyes and take a breath and spread his wings
And fly away, fly away, fly away, fly away, away.

Always your prayers,
Like a boy should, like a good boy should,
Fingers pressed against the glass window watching stars so free