Dm C Dm 2x No good time to walk alone On a bike riding home When you look to the sky Holy holy why All fades into blue On the black sunday afternoon Bad luck comes or just a car On the right side, hears a call And sees a blackbird flying low Above her head no mistletoe Nothing really moves On black sunday afternoons You wake up in a waterbed On the back of your head A lump and just a tiny hole Almost no light at all in here And when you call You can't hear your own voice at all They gath (guitaretab.com)
