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 stars so free, stars so

You run but where,
Even if you could, if you could,
You could try but never run fast enough to not be seen, not be seen

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

The of god is never taken in vain
But the hand of god is to cause a multitude of pain,
When he speaks your daddy
And he very pleased
So shut your foul ungrateful and get down on your knees

And have you seen my wounded
son of a preachers mean touch
Nothing like the cold shoulder of a man to
Show you what true faith in love cant do

Mama away
You know she got a dose of that yesterday
Her sacrifices
Will set you free, set you free

She will not
Her promises in front of god prayed,
After years of living without
She still believes, she still believes, she still

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

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

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