Letra de Sunday Morning

The air's breathing Silently singing: "Some got nothing Some got plenty Just take what you need If you ain't got nothing" Laughing, crying The chimes are ringing The night is over It is Sunday Morning I'll make me a knife Long and sharp and red I'll hold it here To protect my life Guess that's everybody's right Yellow, black or white To live without no fears I'll make me a bed Where I can rest my head I'll take the time I need Though I'm tired as hell Guess that's everybody's right Yellow, black or white To have a place to sleep