lirik lagu sunday storms – chester p
[verse 1]
the world’s spinning, it feels like a movie
blues playing but it still don’t move me
still bunnin’ and i still get boozy
mind state; livin’ on the edge with a uzi
psyched*out nights, on a clean*up with lucy
‘medusa*eyes’ed, stone heart till ya noose me
life can direct me, pain can produce me
strange how the blame for your thoughts will seduce me
and it’s strange how it rains on a sunday
running into struggles on the runway
late night walker
have a couple drinks as i hustle with the corner
sharp еyed thoughts; pure trauma
four corners, four winds; forеsaw ya on the border
malice on ya face, nuttin’ shorter
alice up in chains, but me suttin’ the water, yeah?
[‘ear?] the pain, and the pain’s universal
that’s my life everyday, no rehearsals
drug games crumble in a cocaine frenzy
whole game sent me in a hole that was empty
buried in the sentiment of yesterday’s memories
in the cemetery of timeless deceptions
time is the keep from a mindless perception
how many devils can you send, was the question
good lord, how the answers hit heavenly
[verse 2]
the world’s spinning, it feels like a movie
blues playing but it still don’t move me
i till bunnin’ and i still get boozy
mind state suttin’ like a red hot ruby
dosed up, looking like the ghost of an orphan
trials of a wild man drowned in proportions
trials of precaution
p*ssing in the winds of misfortune
anybody think and i torch ’em
people that are evil sit and string together reasons
for believing there’s a meaning to the schemes and their evil ways
trying not to let them see my face
as i fall from sp*ce
see them smiling as i fall from grace
never mind, i manage with a call from faith
banging at my door, reuniting my with morning’s taste
another night smoking friends to the filter
i never drank a drink that i wouldn’t come and spill yuh
the world’s spinning, it feels like a movie
blues playing but it still don’t move me
i sit bunnin’ and i still get boozy
mind state’s taken to a face looking moody
[bridge]
hey! street’s going one way
i’m in a muddle in the middle of the runway
they got a thing they love saying up slumway
”grab a brolly, mate, it rains on a sunday”
hey! the street goes one way
in a muddle in the middle of the runway
they got a thing they love saying up slumway
”grab a brolly, mate, it rains on a sunday”
hey! the street goes one way
in a muddle in the muddle of the runway
they got a thing they love saying ’round slumway
”grab a brolly, mate, it rains on a sunday”
[verse 3]
seeing daemons in a state of art
finding it difficult to take apart
and i ain’t saying this to break her heart
but i got off to a shaky start
through a window, watching money, time and life pass
not materials, it’s people who define class
magnified in a fine glass of treachery
the same thing that binds you up is gonna set you free
and a soul
ain’t never gonna section me
how many devils could you send, was the question
good lord
how the answer hit heavenly
there’s a thing they love saying up slumway
”grab a brolly, mate, it rains on a sunday” (haha)
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