Nothing's sacred, the days are cheap Truth is thin on the ground Still our prophets are crucified Nobody believes we're stumbling It's Friday, but Sunday is coming Someone's saying a prayer tonight For hungry mouths to be filled Someone kneels in the dark somewhere And darkness is already crumbling It's Friday, but Sunday comes Sunday – Hallelujah – it's not so far, it's not so far away Sunday – Hallelujah – it's not so far, it's not so far away Broken promises, weary hearts But one promise remains: Crucified, he will come again It's Friday, but Sunday is coming It's Friday, but Sunday is coming Sunday