Sunday Afternoon

from by Teenager

/

lyrics

Awe struck, holy luck--won't you give me a smile.
The chill in the air has winter to spare & blows.

Someone's drying up--like a brick on a wall
The shadow of night is tragically bright pointing home.

How can you say that you like it this way?
You must be joking.
And though it's heaven sent, we ain't seen nothing yet
on Sunday afternoon.

Aw struck, holy luck--where'd we go wrong?
How can you say that you like it this way--I know you don't.

How can you say that you like it this way?
You must be joking.
And though it's heaven sent, we ain't seen nothing yet
on Sunday afternoon.

credits

from The Magic of True Love, track released April 11, 2014
From the album, The Magic of True Love, by Teenager.
Recorded & mixed by Peter Labberton & Bevan Herbekian at Essex.
Mastered by Cian Riordan.

Bevan Herbekian--Vox, Piano, Percussion

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about

Teenager San Francisco, California

Teenager is the moniker of the sweetly defiant Bay Area songwriter and multi-instrumentalist, Bevan Herbekian.

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