Does God know how

You call his name

When you′re talking to meTalking to me that way

Does God look down

And say "well done"

When you're pounding your fist

Pounding your fist into my face

Sundays are made for preachers

Sundays are made for choirs

Sundays are made for singing

Sundays cover up the liars

Does anybody hear me scream

I′m doing it under my breath

Trying so hard to keep my hands clean

I'm wearing my Sunday dress

But there's a rip and there′s a tear

There′s a stain and I'm scared

The sober don′t go for unholy

Drowning in a dry county

I run too loud

I cut my hair

I make a mess

But it's under my bed with my secrets

Sundays are made for preachers

Sundays are made for choirs

Sundays are made for singing

Yea, Sundays cover up the liars

Does anybody hear me scream

I′m doing it under my breath

Trying so hard to keep my hands clean

I'm wearing my Sunday dress

But there′s a rip and there's a tear

There's a stain and I′m scared

The sober don′t go for unholy

Drowning in a dry county

Sundays are made for confessions

We're all sisters and brothers

Sundays won′t ever ask questions

But don't forget, don′t forget, don't forget about the others

Does anybody hear me scream

I′m doing it under my breath

Trying so hard to keep my hands clean

I'm wearing my Sunday dress

But there's a rip and there′s a tear

There′s a stain and I'm scared

The sober don′t go for unholy

Drowning in a dry county

Dry county