This Sunday

Here He lies
Playing pretend in the hall
Writing science fiction
Matching our description
Wondering why
They built it then watched it fall
No time, stop your bitching
Decide what's been missing

Alone in the chaos
But what about the lord?
Does he get bored
When buying things he can't afford
Never had He thought
We'd wield His mighty sword
Then Aim it toward
The chapel of the ones ignored
Telling them that someday
Or maybe this Sunday
He'll play along

In the skies
I think I see heaven now
Won't you join our kingdom
Lay down, rest that wisdom
Those white lies
Lending a hand to heading down
Oh, to face the villain
Or face what I have hidden

Alone in the chaos
But what about the lord?
The metaphors
I memorized but never swore
Man made and brainwashed
Reaching into my drawer
In need of more
If he can see, could he ignore
All I can do is pray
Or maybe this Sunday
He'll play along

Corrupted souls, the faithless
Christ worshippers, the nameless
Lift up your souls, lift up your shame
Heres to the ones who made it
Someday when we are ageless
Why not just share what we became



Credits
Writer(s): Payton Justice
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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