On a Dead Sunday Afternoon - Remastered

She's on his mind in a hotel room
outside the door just like before
The night is cold
he takes the street below
by the light of a killing moon
He walks through
an empty room
in a house with lots of space

He's in the city
he can hear the yelling
always wanted to become someone real
on a dead Sunday afternoon

He blends with the noises
the faces, the chases
can merely imagine
that he's been here before
on a dead Sunday afternoon
on a dead Sunday afternoon

She's on his mind all the time
on a dead Sunday afternoon
The faces the chases
on a dead Sunday afternoon



Credits
Writer(s): Per Ivar Martinsen, Svein Hansen, Per Arne Bertheussen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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