I remember Sunday morning. I would meet him at the park. We'd walk together hand in hand. Till it was almost dark. Now I wake up Sunday morning. Walk along the lane to find. Nobody waiting for
all away. You're my Sunday You show up right on time. Just when I need to take it slow. It's a mystery how easily you found the key. That always brings me home You have a way of taking. The noise
Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wadn't bad so I had one more for desert. Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn't hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wadn't bad so I had one more for desert. Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes
Back Home before I die I recall last Sunday morning a choir from 'cross the street. Came to sing a few old gospel songs. And I heard him tell the singers 'There's a song my mama sang. Can I hear once