Sunday is For the Blues

Sunday is for the blues,

lay back and watch yesterdays fade away.

Counting shadows on the wall,

etching memories I no longer recall,

with the dust of by gone memories.

Sadness echoes in my soul,

when was it that I became old?

Where are my lovers these long winter nights?

And who is this daughter I no longer know?

And where are the tears that are yet to fall?

And where are the dreams I once called my own?

And who is ringing me on the stupid phone?

Is it the bill collector or my life that is on hold?

Sunday is for the blues, no doubt in my mind.

Watching raindrops fall,

alone with memories I just can't recall.

Watching children dance, innocence as their friend.

Enjoy it, embrace it, live it for it ends too quickly.

Tears on a pillow.., first love, puppy love...

A silent kiss.., rude good-byes...

And then, finally, Sunday is for the blues.