Vanessa Daou - Sunday Afternoons

Текст песни

I sit at home
At my desk alone
As I used to do
On many sunday afternoons
When you came back to me
Your arms ached for me
And your arms would close me in
Though they smelled of other women
I think of you
On Sunday afternoons
Your sweet head would bow
Like a child somehow
Down to me —
And your hair and your eyes were wild
We would embrace on the floor-
You see my back´s still sore
You knew how easily I bruised
It´s a soreness I would never lose
I think of you
On Sunday afternoons