Sunday morning on crowded roadI saw a man standing alonehe faced the mountains, his hands were raisedlike some prophet, his eyes in a blazeoh bring me the daywhen the sun broke on his faceand he sang "glory"and the sun would risehe sang, "glory", with fire in his eyesabove the engines and the shuffle of feethis voice it carried over the treeshe sang for his children he sang for his homeand he sang for me though he didn't knowoh bring me the daywhen the sun broke on his faceand he sang "glory"and the sun would risehe sang, "glory", with fire in his eyes
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Sunday morning on crowded roadI saw a man standing alonehe faced the mountains, his hands were raisedlike some prophet, his eyes in a blazeoh bring me the daywhen the sun broke on his faceand he sang "glory"and the sun would risehe sang, "glory", with fire in his eyesabove the engines and the shuffle of feethis voice it carried over the treeshe sang for his children he sang for his homeand he sang for me though he didn't knowoh bring me the daywhen the sun broke on his faceand he sang "glory"and the sun would risehe sang, "glory", with fire in his eyes
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