A Month of Sundays
JAMES HENRI HOARE, JOSEPH PATRICK MOUNT
A month of Sundays, law enforced
The church's new torture is now enforced
A month of church every day
Is what they want without delay
Backed by troops, hated by people
One day you're forced towards the steeple
You're living in the shadow of death
The lightning bolt that steals your breath
The church's doors are never shut
You're always welcome in
But when will the day come
When you have to pay for them to relieve your sin?
