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St. Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues è una canzone di La Dispute il cui testo ha innumerevoli ricerche, quindi abbiamo deciso che merita il suo posto su questo sito web, insieme a molti altri testi di canzoni che gli utenti di Internet desiderano conoscere.
Stained-glass and the choir sing out that strong and ceaseless chorus here
So sweet the voices, sweep like leaves into the street
On eastern, a celebration carried on for God and hope and refuge
To keep each other, life; give shelter from the storm and keep warm
The congregation gathers outside in the parking lot, each service done
They keep the old hymn rolling on and on and
I see the scene in color each day driving out to eastown
That old abandoned church and have I gone the same sad way?
Have I gone the same sad way?
Through the sixties flourished and the seventies in flux
The eighties fluctuate each year unclear of when the money would dry up
And when the nineties violent crime and rising unemployment rates came by
That parking lot grew dim and thin of sinners and saints
Until the voices, unceasing, slowly faded to black
Until the weeds stormed the concrete from unattended cracks
It had to know, had to feel that glory never coming back
Like I could feel it when the passion left, the last of what I had
It had to know like I knew
And I can't find it still
Might not ever
Ten years now standing vacant
Ten years on empty, maybe more
Once held the faith of hundreds
Soon one more cell phone store
For years they gathered here
Inside the building sound and true
To sing their praises to a God that gave them hope
To carry on, to carry through
So, I've been thinking about that
Sometimes go slow when I drive by
How a home of stone and a house so holy
Grows so empty over time
What gave those people purpose
Past death approaching constantly
Now left to crumble slowly
Now left to wither with the weeds
Now left to ice and vandals
The advent candles long since gone
The old foundation shifting hard
The concrete overgrown, but
That stained-glass window sits untouched amongst the brickwork worn
A symbol of the beauty only perfect at that moment we were born
And just the other day I swear I saw a man there
Pulling weeds out of the concrete, sweeping up and patching cracks
I saw him lift a rag to wash the years of filth from off those windows
Made me wonder if there's anyone like that for you and me and
Anybody else who broke and lost hope
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