letra de sad stormy sunday - tommy stewart's dyerwulf
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this morning the world, unsure of itself
boundaries drawn out in grey
like unfinished drawings forgot on a shelf
undefined by sun’s morning rays
sad stormy sunday
and the soul feels enclosed
all the trees swathed in cotton
as the sculptor has surely dozed
and her face seems surely forgotten
sad stormy sunday
straining as you start, sailing in low
strain is a storm, stretching slow
saturn like swinging, y’sling a big ring
swirling around, there is no sun king
sad stormy sunday
shuddering you slow down, slinking along you slide
silently back to bed, sluggish and a long sigh
sad stormy sunday
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