to who baby. [Chorus:] Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a sunday morning, I got cake but I need more ice and alle I say off the streets I'm a symphony
who baby. [Chorus:] Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a sunday morning, I got cake but I need more ice and alle I say off the streets I'm a symphony,
번역: 지방 조. 일요일 아침에 설교자.
Catch a taxi to the fountainhead Blinking neon penny arcade A young Caruso on the fire escape Painted face ladies on parade A newsboy on the corner Singing
can sit on my ass or just imagine The madness I did on my path and paint the canvas When I wake up, I look into the mirror I can see a clearer vision
Sunday morning, heard the preacher say ?Thou shall not kill? I don't wanna hear nothing else about killing And that it's God's will 'Cause our children
a rapper I wrote a song for you, girl Since I'm a gun clapper I keep it warm for you, girl Lift some weights and keep it hard for you, girl Sunday morning
I was driving home early Sunday morning through Bakersfield Listening to Gospel music on the colored radio station And the preacher said, "You know you
preacher The preacher and the bear Boy, boy, the preacher The preacher and the bear Boy, boy, the preacher The preacher and the bear Boy, boy, the preacher The preacher
Good friends all have withdrawn their salutations Good neighbors pause when I come down the street Preacher has a look of scorn on Sunday morning And there?s a frown on
One Sunday morning I woke up with you on my mind Now I could be a little forward and do things to show you how I feel 'cause I knew later on I'd see you
mama?s love, your biggest dream That little town you had to leave And all of those sweet memories Of growing up wild and free The Sunday morning, ringing bells The preacher
Sunday morning So I packed my bags and I said goodbye CHORUS When you leave that way you can never go back A train won't run on a torn up track
Sunday morning So I packed my bags and I said goodbye CHORUS When you leave that way you can never go back A train won't run on a torn up track Sometimes
people on the bus (people on the bus) There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us Paradise, lost and found Paradise, take a look around
all morning and you haven't touched a single bite And nice young preacher brother Tailor dropped by today Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday
to work in a paper sack And tellin' all of his buddies how proud he is of me Things like the preacher standin' in the pulpit early on Sunday morning Preachin
