Print

In the world the sun is coming up black cry, cry Pain filled doves and beat up against my window, my head. Blue and red, alive and dead. Keep the claws coiled and not understand the suffering. Cradled in madness Flirting with the dead Hope and sadness What is real and true Bury me Sundays are red They hurt me like the needles of rain Bury me Sundays are red They hurt me like the needles of rain Are you coming, are you coming Dawn from there I can dance on the night wind with my wings With my wings A thorn strokes me, a thorn chokes me nervously Always a blood bath brooding 'neath my windows Let me out my body is rain trickle through the cracks mournful terrain Not too far from the pavement, the cold grey truth Bury me Sundays are red They hurt me like the needles of rain on my head Bury me Sundays are red They hurt me like the needles of rain Letras de cancionesSundays are red, Sundays are red Sundays are red, somedays are dead Take me from the mad red Take me from the mad red, and give me a peaceful blue I do not like living when there is no giving It makes no sense It makes no sense From Letras Mania