Sunday Reign
Why do some fear to pass,
and others fear to trod?
As the sun heats up our shadows,
paradise is burying God.
From across the silver sea
to our golden coasts,
the country is now haunted
by hundreds of holy ghosts.
Say goodbye, we are sinking.
Will your paradise ever rise?
See, the Sunday reign is falling,
false hope never satisfies.
Paradise needs an upgrade,
is freedom really free?
After you cross all your deserts,
meet me by the happy sea.
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