I feel great
(tekst&musikk: Bjørn Ove Berthelsen - Mr. P)

I'm going downtown, just walking in trance
It's Saturday evening, and time for "a dance"
I catch your eyes drifting - we don't need to say
A single word more - than a firm "just please stay"
I say

Sundays, fear no sundays
Sundays you're my mate
Sundays, fear no sundays
Eyes meet, all set up, all straight

When I close my eyes, something is aching
When I open them up, the whole globe's a shaking
Like a bunch of germs dining, one hell of a meal
In a glimpse of a moment, I clearly reveal
These odd

Sundays, I hate sundays
Sundays please move on
Sundays, I hate sundays
I close my eyes, conjure that you're gone
Then I open my eyes, and see you get on

Solo

Like a magic touch, lean hands make their way
Two bodies are twisting, there's nothing to say
No need to conjure, to close, not to feel
Making and rolling, and fin'lly reveal
That these

Sundays, I love sundays
Sundays, you're my mate
Sundays, I love sundays
%I don't mind the faintest, feel great%
%I just feel great%

See also:
JustSomeLyrics
43
43.76
Jan Smit tobago Lyrics
Värttinä Aitara Lyrics