| On Sunday morning, everyone will leave the house
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| Dressed for the Sunday service
|
| And through the streets I used to know
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| They go to meet their friends
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| And so they take the family seat
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| Father prays so earnestly, forgetting all around him
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| When Eleanor sings in the choir, it’s like a lark in summer
|
| The sparrow sings, the sparrow flies
|
| With mighty wings he reaches
|
| As high as any other bird
|
| He shall inherit all the earth
|
| The sparrow sings, the sparrow flies
|
| With mighty wings he reaches
|
| As high as any other bird
|
| He shall inherit all the earth
|
| A wealth of silence will descend upon the town
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| In colours of the evening
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| The thought has troubled me before
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| I know alone I need a song to fill each moment
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| I had to find it out my way
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| They couldn’t stop me leaving
|
| As though they knew, but could not say
|
| They let me go believing
|
| The sparrow sings, the sparrow flies
|
| With mighty wings he reaches
|
| As high as any other bird
|
| He shall inherit all the earth
|
| The sparrow sings, the sparrow flies
|
| With mighty wings he reaches
|
| As high as any other bird
|
| He shall inherit all the earth
|
| Through the blue and hazy drift of after two
|
| A saxophone is moaning
|
| I rise and step into the cool night air |