[Intro]
Sunday morning.
Front row.
Back row.
Everybody’s here.
…
Interesting.
[Verse 1] There’s a guy in a brand-new tailored suit Making sure everybody sees him walk in A politician shaking every hand in sight Campaign season must be starting again
The widow’s wearing perfume strong enough To resurrect the dead two pews away She’s not praying for salvation today She’s got entirely different plans
Meanwhile the old man from across the street Looks happier than I’ve ever fucking seen
Probably because for the next hour
Nobody’s asking him to fix anything
[Pre-Chorus] Everybody came to church Just not always for the same reason
[Chorus] Halle-fucking-lujah Look at us all Looking for something Between these walls Some want forgiveness Some want attention Some just came To avoid another family intervention
Halle-fucking-lujah
Ain’t life strange?
We’re all praying for different things Yet somehow here we are the same
Halle-fucking-lujah
[Verse 2] There’s a young girl lighting up the front row Praying hard enough to move a mountain Asking Heaven for a miracle Like she genuinely believes it’s coming
And honestly
I fucking hope it does
She deserves a better world than this one
Meanwhile three rows back The neighborhood rumor department Has already gathered enough information
To publish next week’s newsletter
[Pre-Chorus] Everybody came searching Everyone brought baggage
[Chorus] Halle-fucking-lujah Look around this place The saints The sinners The dreamers
All sharing the same space
Some want healing
Some want answers
Some are wondering If they’re accidentally sitting next to their ex
Halle-fucking-lujah
[Bridge]
That businessman wants peace
That mother wants strength
That teenager wants freedom
That grandparent wants one more year
That lonely soul wants love
That tired soul wants rest
And me?
I’m fucking just sitting here
Taking notes again
[Guitar Solo]
[Final Chorus] [Key Lift][Full Choir]
Halle-fucking-lujah
What a mess we are
A collection of broken stories
Trying to find our fucking stars
Some came for hope
Some came for habit
Some came because life got heavy
And they didn’t know where else to carry it
Halle-fucking-lujah
For all of us
The perfect
The broken
The lucky
The lost
[Outro]
Service ended.
Everybody left.
The politician shook more hands.
The widow got a phone number.
The rumor mill got fresh material.
The old man bought himself another quiet hour.
The girl kept her faith.
…
And me?
I got a song.
Halle-fucking-lujah.