Sunday - Orlando Gibbons



     
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Sunday Lyrics


Your vision's blurred, your mouth is dry
It is Sunday, just another Sunday
Your body aches, your conscience sleeps
It is Sunday, just another Sunday
You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
Your knees are weak, your heart's on speed
It is Sunday, just another Sunday
Your senses lie, your temple speaks
It is Sunday, just another Sunday
You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
I think I'm outta my mind sometimes maybe
Feel, feel

No room in my head cause it's filled with a boom
I think I'm outta my mind sometimes maybe
Feel, feel
No room in my head cause it's filled with a boom
It is Sunday, just another Sunday
[Incomprehensible][Incomprehensible]You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
You say you don't wanna feel this way
You don't wanna feel
I think I'm outta my mind sometimes maybe
Feel, feel
No room in my head cause it's filled with a boom
I think I'm outta my mind sometimes maybe
Feel, feel
No room in my head cause it's filled with a boom

Enjoy the lyrics !!!

Orlando Gibbons (1583-1625), English composer and organist of the late Tudor and early Jacobean periods, a leading composer in the England of his day. Born in Oxford, England, he sang in the choir of King's College, Cambridge between 1596 and 1598, then he entered the university in 1598 and achieved the degree of Bachelor of Music in 1606. James I appointed him a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, where he served as an organist from at least 1615 until his death. In 1625 he became senior organist at the Chapel Royal, with Thomas Tomkins as junior organist.

Read more about Orlando Gibbons on Last.fm.


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Orlando Gibbons