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
