sunday - pillea lyrics
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left your guilt in the confessional, a comfortable release
“when jesus spoke to proud nationals he never lived in our great country”
the softball team where everyone looks like me
the hot carafe whose drink i’ll never have
sunday rituals
old enough to know their weight
left your childhood in those fields, collapsed in your black shirt
woke up in a van, whose doors were weldеd shut
estranged at birth to half, enthralled by thе other
the guidance that you had, their beauty, and their struggle
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