Sunday Morning

Wine carpet, wooden pews
Hymnals and grape juice
Growing up on Traveling Jesus and church shoes
Maybe there's a God above
But when push comes to shove
I've found it's true there's no hate like Christian love

And I'd be lying
If I said I've never done wrong
But watching it happen
How am I to make sense of it all?

Mama's crying and I'm holding her hand
And that man said "good morning" but I know what he did
And I'm singing Hallelujah, but no one's listening
And yeah, I love Jesus
But I dread Sunday morning

Bowing heads, holding hands
Potlucks and pulpit stands
surrounded by enemies, think it's a secret from me
How am I to trust this when all I've seen is hatred?
I'll always keep one eye open praying

Mama's crying and I'm holding her hand
And that man said "good morning" but I know what he did
And I'm singing Hallelujah, but no one's listening
And yeah, I love Jesus
But I dread Sunday morning

I don't wanna be known as that type of person
I'll try and keep faith while it's our name they're cursing
I'll worship on a Wednesday or Saturday evening
Alone
But Sunday I'd rather stay home

'Cause Mom will be crying and I'll hold her hand
Watching menacing glances as dad takes the stand
And they'll say Hallelujah with a fist as they sing
I love Jesus but I dread Sunday morning



Credits
Writer(s): Skye Matteson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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