It's Sunday, and the world does itself For all of its faults, and it's explosions of wealth You, you stand naked, in front of your true love's words She tells you, she's not seen worse And the eyes of the world will still burn And then turn away, on Sunday This strange world, yeah, you wear it like a crown It's beautiful and senseless, but it's tragedy you've found When, when you look into her eyes You can tell she's just as ugly, as reflections you despise The eyes of the world will still burn And then turn away, on Sunday