Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Sunday Morning, artist - LowKey. Album song Soundtrack to the Struggle 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.04.2019
Record label: Mesopotamia
Song language: English
Sunday Morning |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
But they don’t know |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
When the children see them, they point and laugh |
But they don’t know |
They don’t know |
She lost her son on a Sunday |
Her memory’s a bloodstain |
The paper showed his young face |
Who remembered his mum’s name? |
She sleeps with the blanket he was wrapped in as a child |
He’s not dead he’s just napping for a while |
She thinks backwards with a smile |
On a clock, the hands stop |
Can’t accept all the plans |
Lost sunny Sundays |
Dancing to Vandross like: |
I used to be such a bad bad boy |
But I gave it up |
When I fell in love (ooh) |
Hold him close breathe the smell of his skin |
Preserving every little thing |
How can she ever begin |
To move on? |
Sunday mornings getting the groove on |
His little hands wave, their new-born grew strong through songs |
She thinks he’s coming in from school |
Made his favourite dinner too |
Sitting talking to an empty chair in the living room |
Roams the street calling out things that no one listens to |
Tried to treat her but |
They thought solution was medicinal |
No |
And I don’t think they’ll ever comprehend it |
Schizophrenic or a broken heart that can’t be mended |
Now she’s sitting talking to herself |
Where the bench is |
Relatives wonder when she’s coming to her senses |
In her mind, he grew |
Walked the passage to a man |
They branded it as madness |
Never planned to understand |
She can’t quite touch him |
She imagines that she can |
Holding the fabric to her face |
Squeezing the blanket in her hand |
Saying |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya |
I dance with you |
I dance with you |
(Oooh) |
The day they came and took away his son was a Sunday |
But he only woke up to the news on the Monday |
More times he knows the situation ends one way |
But he looks up searching for some hope in the sunrays |
A year passed, two years passed, three years passed |
Finds it hard to get over the shadow that the fear casts |
Four years passed, five years passed, six, seven, eight passed |
Still lays a hand for him when they play cards |
His bedroom as it was, doesn’t dare to touch a thing |
Hums himself to sleep with the songs his son would sing, like: |
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone |
Only darkness every day |
Ain’t no sunshine now he’s gone |
Only darkness every day |
You might see him by the betting shop |
Asking for a spare pound |
His shoes are getting tattered |
And he’s losing all his hair now |
Sees him in his dreams but |
He doesn’t know his whereabouts |
Sees him in the mirror |
'Cause there’s nothing else he cares 'bout |
Sees him in the crowd but |
The truth is, he isn’t there |
Goes after him and chases but |
Every time, he disappears |
Cars pass him by |
And passengers just sit and stare |
Talking to himself in a cruel world that didn’t care |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya (ah ya ya) |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya (hey) |
I dance with you (oh) |
I dance with you (ah) |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya (every Sunday morning, yeah) |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya (ah oh) |
Every Sunday morning na ya ya |
I dance with you (oh) |
I dance with you (ah) |
I don’t think I can do this on my own (no no no) |
I don’t think I can do this on my own (oh) |
I don’t think I can do this on my own |
'Cause I need you |
I need you |
I don’t think I can do this on my own |
I don’t think I can do this on my own |
I don’t think I can do this on my own |
'Cause I need you (I need you) |
I need you |