For the way it was before Where are you now? Are you lost? Will I find you again? Are you alone? Are you afraid? Are you searching for me? Why did
Will I find you again Are you alone Are you afraid Are you searching for me Why did you go I had to stay Now I'm reaching for you Will you wait, will
lost Will I find you again Are you alone Are you afraid Are you searching for me Why did you go I had to stay Now I'm reaching for you Will you wait,
is America Love colder than death, working the streets Love doesn't come cheap, so I learn how to steal Religion for sale, buy my way into heaven Sell my soul for
store This is Aaron Yates, this Aliyah and Reign This is for Little Donnie, this is for all Akoya's pain This is for the sickness of Marty Sue This is for
them by your gate? Or sad eyed lady, should I wait? With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace And your deck of cards missing the jack and the
HIS LIVING' ON THE GROUND. YES SUNDAY-GO-TO-MEETING' CALLED FOR MORE THAN HE COULD STAND I GUESS HE FELT AT HOME IN HIS OLD CLOTHES BUT HE NEVER MISSED
by your gate Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ? With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace And your deck of cards missing the jack and the
come true Oh, I would not even try to force them through I'm sure there's things I've missed, that others preached The goals they reached, they weren't for
of ages cleft for me Now that could be the voice of John F Morgan in the Ripley jailhouse singin' hymns Well ol' Johnny might just be singin' hymn this
little towns across this big night Hothouse flowers all kissing for fun Slipping into stores then out in a run Singing, laments and rowdy songs, hymns
Georgette Jones, you simply take my breath away Born just six short years ago and named for your daddy and me Going to sleep on [Incomprehensible] arm and listening to her hymn
me now." I am from a distant place that sits and waits for my belated time to come but its too late I've missed my fate. I "F" with the deaf, blind
we made our plans to meet tonight under street lights of suburban U.S.A. nostalgia that I keep on playing on the mix will play that life made for you
dresser, so I put it in the drawer 'Cause I can't seem to talk to God without yelling anymore And when I sit at your piano I can almost hear those hymns
see a sight like that again; no, I don't There was nothin' to do but close our eyes, an' bow our heads, an' vocalize With a silent five-part acapella hymn, for
