Letra de Sunday - Schwarz

Call the doctor of spirit,
there�s a big hole inside me,
spreads its darkness over my bed
making me wish not to get up.

Can�t you feel the bitter smell?
Something in the air tells that�s Sunday.

Let�s go to the park for a walk,
see the roses getting old,
read a book close to the window,
the weather man said it�s gonna rain.

Boredom is a golden rule,
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there�s nothing we can do this Sunday.

It doesn�t feel like yesterday
when we had so many things to say, but now...

I�m not going to move from my room,
so this Sunday will go by.
It will leave a taste of clich�,
another crevice in my heart.

Today is the best day of the year
to go off and disappear, it�s Sunday.