My Sunday Blues. 2018, blues, pop-rock

I am sitting on the floor. No one's knocking on my door.
I'm trying something new, That's reminding me of you.
So I drink a glass of wine. I remember you were mine.
Now you live a happy life, You’re a mother and someone’s wife.

Refrain:
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
Nobody hears my Sunday blues.
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
And you don't hear my Sunday blues.

I'm a letter on the page. I'm an artist on the stage.
Sunday night is coming down, Flashing back to Savoy Brown.
When I’m playing in the band, I just feel a touch of hand.
I believe you'll hear the blues And my love will never lose.

Refrain:
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
Nobody hears my Sunday blues.
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
And you don't hear my Sunday blues.

I am sitting on the floor. No one's knocking on my door.
I'm trying something new, That’s reminding me of you.
When I’m playing in the band, I just feel a touch of hand.
I believe you'll hear the blues And my love will never lose.

Refrain:
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
Nobody hears my Sunday blues.
The winter is outdoors. I play guitar, of course.
And you will hear my Sunday blues.


Русская версия текста: Мой воскресный блюз (2020)
http://stihi.ru/2021/02/15/3246