Month of Sundays

In a month of Sunday’s from today,
We’ll gather in a crowd,
And on a better day the bands will play,
When singing is allowed,
We’ll fix a day of meeting for the lovers never kissed,
And we’ll keep the tree till August for the Christmas that we missed,
And the finest thing that anyone will say:
The month of Sunday’s happened yesterday,

In a month of Sunday’s by and by,
We’ll be carrying a cure,
I’ve missed the mouths of everyone,
The masks will stay indoors,
The blonde man in the big house will do more than just pretend,
And the figures of the fallen ones won’t fill the news at ten,
This month of Sundays really had its day,
More like a month of Mondays anyway,

We'll think about the skin we're in,
And the colour code that caused a world of sin,
We'll live as souls beyond our screens,
It could be easily forgotten,
That it took us being speechless to finally find the words,
And it took us being house cats for the lions to emerge,

So give a hand for healers whose handling we trust,
Take a moment for the makers whose wings are making rust,
One and all who wouldn't want to say?
That the month of Sundays happened,

Like a feather of lead or a hole in the head it brought us to the floor,
Like a shot at the stars or a pile up of cars we didn't travel far,
But raise the mask and a half-full glass, I learned from my cocoon,
That patience has a way,
Of colouring the grey,
Tomorrow will be better than the last,
And we'll see the month of Sundays in the past,

Broken Biscuit Company

Popular tracks