Verse:
You were lyin' on the bed readin' Vanity Fair.
I was smokin' on the floor your fingers in my hair.
A frozen moment that ended too soon.
Two P.M. on a Sunday afternoon. Waitress dress by day, Shakespeare pen at night.
You were buildin' the dream under the California light.
We met in a bar where my guitar sang a tune.
In love by Sunday afternoon. Bridge:
I felt your warmth on my skin.
Sweet love on my lips kept me livin'
You were there every time I close my eye.
Hauntin' my soul, every breath mesmerized Solo Verse:
Time slips through my fingers, growing old.
'I love you' only seemed to make you cold.
Steel strings vibrating out of tune.
We sat in silence on a Sunday afternoon. Then he cut through like sunshine from the grey.
The past had come to take you away.
Your hand slipped through mine, your heart was immune.
You were gone by Sunday afternoon. Bridge