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• Artiste: Elou Elan
• Titre: Sunday Paper
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Looking through the news, still gives me the blues. We need more time, I urge you to be patient. It's hard to see what for, for every fire opened you close another door, And four years is a long, long time. Gazing at your picture, you look just like you do on those funny green cards I bite a laugh a little, too Your mouth is opened wide; your hair is to the side Your eyes are dull and blind, your mind's a trapped kind But there's time, there's no quick punch line Looking through my blues, sure gives me the news. If all you need is love, then why collect such hatred? Not hard to see what for For every fire opened, you close another door And four years is a long, long time Two hundred eight Sunday papers One thousand, four hundred, sixty one days Hope has changed the picture, from black and white and red to a thousand greys instead. His arms are opened wide, warm family by his side His eyes are colour blind, still there's times a troubled kind And our climb is in need of a lifeline Looking through our list to-does, still an awful lot to choose If I'm healing you, or me, let's see ourselves in one another It's not hard to know what for For every door you open, you fan the flames some more And four years is not a long, long time Two hundred eight Sunday papers One thousand, four hundred, sixty one days, one thousand, four hundred, sixty one days...