Track 3 of the album Candle Down · 2019
Sunday Afternoon, Nowhere to Be
“The roast is in, the radio's low, and nobody needs me anywhere. The most luxurious thing I know.”
jazz · cosy jazz · sunday swing · 3:50
Lyrics
The roast is in the oven The radio is low Light falls across the carpet Slow, and gold, and slow Nobody needs me anywhere The phone can ring and ring I'm folded in the armchair With the quiet of the thing Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be Tea gone cold, and that's fine with me Clock on the wall can take its time The whole wide day is yours and mine Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be The neighbour's mowing lazy The cat has found the sun Somebody's laughing downstairs The week is nearly done I'll read the same page over I'll hum without a tune And watch the dust go dancing Through the slanted afternoon Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be Tea gone cold, and that's fine with me Clock on the wall can take its time The whole wide day is yours and mine Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be Monday, you can wait Monday, knock all you like I'm busy being still I'm busy being right here The window's open halfway The curtain breathes in, out The smell of something baking Is what Sundays are about So pull your chair a little closer Let the hours run There's nothing left to hurry for Till the setting of the sun Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be Tea gone cold, and that's fine with me Clock on the wall can take its time The whole wide day is yours and mine Sunday afternoon, nowhere to be Nowhere to be Nowhere to be