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Anna Ternheim - Black Sunday Afternoon

On the black sunday afternoon

The 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

Bad luck comes or just a car

On the right side, hears a call

And sees a blackbird flying low

Above her head no mistletoe

Nothing really moves

On black sunday afternoons

You wake up in a waterbed

On the back of your head

A lump and just a tiny hole

Almost no light at all in here

And when you call

You can't hear your own voice at all

They gather up, something's wrong

They ask around, noone knows

Have you been where the rivers cross

By the water in the moss

Nothing really moves

On black sunday afternoons

Sun's pale like the moon

When you look to the sky

Holy holy holy holy why

All fades into blue

On black sunday afternoons