Lyrics

I am tragically covered Sunday Bleeding Sunday, Sunday's blood Who is always sneaking around On the polished palace floor? Who is always knocking on my On my palace doctor's door? Who has always Kept them bleeding From the royal Palace sores? I am always High and mighty Laying on the Palace floor Who is always Sneaking around In the palace Garden rows? Who always throws The first spade Over shoulder Palace wood? Who is always Hiding bodies Wealthy bodies As you should? I am working In the garden Planting flowers After dark
Writer(s): John Peter Dwyer Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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