Sunday River

by Anne Weiss

Genre: Folk/Acoustic

Lyrics

Sunday River

Sunday River
How many poems have you delivered?
How many letters,
How many dreams,
How many words of love in your stream?

Sunday River.
How many regrets have you received?
Current of confession, sinking of sin
How much sadness can you take in?
Wash me clean.

I am just the country, I am just the land.
I have no intention of like what they
had planned
I would live in peace, my soil is for good
I am so misunderstood.

Sunday River.
The reed at your end are bent in prayer
Silver fish and a drowsy sun
and a happy little girl is playing there
Well they fashion me up with guns
and they fashion me up with tanks
but every little girl is like the one
at your bank.
Wash me clean, wash me clean.

I am just the country, I am just the land
I had no intention of what they had planned
I would live in peace, my soil is for good
I am so misunderstood.

Sunday River.
Moses what a whipponwhill.
Sunday River, when I called
He came right up my hill.
Sunday River.
I said it once, but I am saying it still…
Thou shall not kill…thou shall not kill.
Thou shall not kill.

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