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Sunday
par
Tori Kelly
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Ey, yeah Ah, ey When the world looks at me I wonder what they see Underneath these eyes Oh, smiles masquerade as pain Then grow up to be shame And leave me with a lie I know they, they don't see my flaws Or these hidden scars And all the mess I made Oh, so don't, don't let Sunday fool ya Here's my hallelujah Every single day, I'm running to Your grace Ey, ey, ey I'm tired of this dirty heart That keeps our worlds apart I need Your loving fire And even in these church clothes I can't dress up my soul To be free is my desire I'm so far from where they think I am But when I raise my hands I'm reaching out for life Oh, so don't, don't let Sunday fool ya Here's my hallelujah Every single day, I'm running to Your grace I know they, they don't see my flaws Or these hidden scars And all the mess I made Oh, so don't, don't let Sunday fool ya Here's my hallelujah Every single day, I'm running to Your grace Running to Your grace Oh, I need it everyday
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