Song parody of
Sunday After Sunday
by David Michael Carrillo
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Sunday after Sunday, she powder's her noise
She makes sure things are in place before she goes
Every Sunday Morning she will testify how the Lord been good and life is fine
She betrays herself as a woman of faith
Yet all this time she fears her husband rage
Underneath the makeup and her clothes, are bruise she gets from home
And the people at church, well they don't even know
That she hurting, they think she's perfect
Sunday after Sunday he puts on his best
His favorite shirt and tie he's neatly dressed
Every Sunday morning he sings a long
Those great hymns of faith and the worship songs
While he stands and sings amazing grace
His heart is hunted by fear, shame and disgrace
A secret battle eats away at his soul
And the people at church they don't even know
That he's hurting, they think he's perfect
Why do we try to hide behind a facade?
When we never can fool the eyes of God?
Sunday after Sunday they sit in the pew, it could be me or it could be you
The ones, who are hurting, lost or confused
But we'll never know till we tell the truth
So let me be the first to stand and amit to you I need your help for I'm not perfect
I'm not perfect
No I'm not perfect
I'm not perfect
Sunday after Sunday, she powder's her noise
She makes sure things are in place before she goes
Every Sunday Morning she will testify how the Lord been good and life is fine
She betrays herself as a woman of faith
Yet all this time she fears her husband rage
Underneath the makeup and her clothes, are bruise she gets from home
And the people at church, well they don't even know
That she hurting, they think she's perfect
Sunday after Sunday he puts on his best
His favorite shirt and tie he's neatly dressed
Every Sunday morning he sings a long
Those great hymns of faith and the worship songs
While he stands and sings amazing grace
His heart is hunted by fear, shame and disgrace
A secret battle eats away at his soul
And the people at church they don't even know
That he's hurting, they think he's perfect
Why do we try to hide behind a facade?
When we never can fool the eyes of God?
Sunday after Sunday they sit in the pew, it could be me or it could be you
The ones, who are hurting, lost or confused
But we'll never know till we tell the truth
So let me be the first to stand and amit to you I need your help for I'm not perfect
I'm not perfect
No I'm not perfect
I'm not perfect
