Текст Richard Thompson – Salford Sunday

Salford Sunday, skies are weeping
Dawn is creeping through the blind
Salford Sunday and I’m aching
For the night I left behind

Salford Sunday, morning after
Bass drum beating in my head
Sunday papers talking scandal
And a cold side of the bed

For I left a weeping willow
She should be lying on my pillow
If I wasn’t such a hard nose
Such a perfect waste of time

Salford Sunday and I’m dreaming
And it’s all in black and white
I do better, oh when I’m dreaming
Better than I did last night

Salford Sunday and I’m walking
Though the rain is pelting down
There’s a train goes back to London
I hate to leave this ugly town

For I left a weeping willow
She should be lying on my pillow
If I wasn’t such a hard nose
Such a perfect waste of time

Salford Sunday, skies are weeping
Dawn is creeping through the blind
Salford Sunday and I’m aching
For the night I left behind
For the night I left behind