Wasting away on sunday morning It would be so grand if you could arive Inspite of yawning I could have way give some thought Into a classic company Among the sound Give to who that cries I will always symphathize Whether the sound is faded out I'm walking alone on sunday morning After all the sleepless sign(?) They give out a kind of warning(?) Though, I don't wanna comprehend The life of solitude is fair You do not cry You just, but I lend hand Where the? is my lonely by The few into gland