Текст: Bald Vulture. Short Antology Of Human Decadance. Sunday Bloody Sunday.

I can't believe the news today
I can't close my eyes and make it go away
How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long?

Tonight we can be as one, tonight
Broken bottles under children's feet
Bodies strewn across a dead end street
But I won't heed the battle call
It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall

Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday

And the battle's just begun,
There's many lost, but tell me who has won?
Trenches dug within our hearts,
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters torn apart

Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday

How long, how long must we sing this song?
How long?
Tonight we can be as one
Tonight, tonight

Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday

Wipe the tears from your eyes
Wipe your tears away
Wipe your blood shot eyes

Sunday, bloody Sunday
Sunday, bloody Sunday

And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and T.V. reality
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die
The real battle just begun
To claim the victory Jesus won
On a Sunday bloody Sunday

Sunday Bloody Sunday