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The weather's fine; or so they tell me.
It's Sunday morning out in the fields;
and in the church the bells are pealing
for all the people on their knees.

The sky is cloudless, but to me it looks like rain.
My hope are groundless: I know I won't see you again;
and all the birds are singing out of tune;
and she's to blame, ‘cos she's not you.

Your smile was like a summer morning:
it brought refreshment to the mind.
Though all around me day is dawning,
I think that life can be unkind.

The sky is cloudless, but to me it looks like rain.
My hopes are groundless: I know I won't see you again;
and all the birds are singing out of tune;
and she's to blame, ‘cos she's not you.

The clock strikes ten, and once again you're on my mind.
The church bells ring and people sing.

The sky is cloudless, but to me it looks like rain.
My hope are groundless: I know I won't see you again;
and all the birds are singing out of tune;
and she's to blame, ‘cos she's not you.

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.