Refining sympathies
Is how they spend their time
They ask you how you’re doing
And then they pay you no mind
But that’s how he is
And thats the way she rolls
Drinking the gasoline
Digging the new hole
And it’s Sunday morning maybe afternoon
And I’ve got my bag of faith
I need something to look forward to
I’m losing touch again
And I’ve got all these beliefs
But they don’t mean a thing
But it don’t keep me up
No, I don’t let it keep me up
A blink of history
Shot through my head
I’ve got some past lives
I’ve got some missing friends
And you will get what you get
And it don’t mean a thing
Thеy say it’s a small world
But there’s so much I ain’t seen
And it’s Sunday morning maybe aftеrnoon
And I’ve got my bag of faith
I need something to look forward to
I’m losing touch again
On Sunday morning
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