Black Sunday Afternoon

On the black Sunday afternoon
 Sun is pale like the moon
 When you look to the sky
 Holy holy, why?
 All fades into blue
 On the black Sunday afternoon
 No good time to walk alone
 On a bike riding home
 When you look to the sky
 Holy holy, why?
 All fades into blue
 On the black Sunday afternoon
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 Bad luck comes at just a car
 On the right side hears a call
 And sees a black ref flying low
 Bother head, no mistletoe
 Nothing really moves
 On black Sunday afternoons
 You wake up in a water-bed
 And on the back of your head
 A lump and just a tiny hole
 Almost no light at all in here
 When you call
 You can't hear your own voice at all
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 They gather up, something's wrong
 
 They ask around, no one knows
 Well, have you been where the rivers cross
 By the water in the moss
 Nothing really moves
 On black Sunday afternoons
 Sun is pale like the moon
 When you look to the sky
 Holy holy, holy holy, why?
 All fades into blue
 On black Sunday afternoons