Текст Chris De Burgh – Big City Sundays

Birds on the wing, we are the lost generation
We have to go breaking the hearts of a nation

Oh but I’m fine, this city’s ok
This is my time, I’m finding my way

Here on a Sunday, it’s always the same
The streets are deserted, just me and the rain
On big city Sundays, it’s when I’m alone
I’m holding back the tears, dreaming of home

Birds on the wind, sailing the highways of freedom
Birds have to sing, needing a dream to believe in

Oh but all changed, utterly changed in this land
That’s losing it’s way, like a ship adrift on the ocean

Here on a Sunday, it’s always the same
The streets are deserted, just me and the rain
On big city Sundays, it’s when I’m alone
I’m holding back the tears, dreaming of home

Home, where my heart is
Home, the sea and the sky and that feeling inside
Just to be with my friends
How I long for that feeling again

Here on a Sunday, it’s bringing me down
The streets are deserted, there’s no one around
On big city Sundays, it’s when I’m alone
I’m holding back the tears, dreaming of home

On big city Sundays, it’s when I’m alone
I’m holding back the tears, dreaming of home
Dreaming of home