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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Sunday (1994)
Performer
Lee Newell
All Instruments
Paige Turner
All Instruments
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Lee Newell
Composer
Paige Turner
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lee Newell
Producer
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Chipped tooth in your smile
That you blame on your motorcycle
And the barmaid's voice
Is as shrill as a dentist drill
But I'm happy here in my sundress
American accent
As the locals stare
'Cause I gotta mouth like a millionaire
[PreChorus]
And I know there's an ocean between us
And I wanna drown in you
[Chorus]
Last call, closing time
You slur your words and it sounds like heaven to me
So clear your last beer, baby
High life, low-income
They don't make them like you
Where I'm from
I'm sick, and I'm a fool
I'm devoted to you
You, you
[Verse 2]
My eyes gotta squint
'Cause the gin would taste like petrol
As the bar choir sings
God save our gracious King
[PreChorus]
And you, you got a past that a preacher couldn't fix
But you healed me better than Jesus
[Chorus]
Last call, closing time
You slur your words and it sounds like heaven to me
So clear your last beer, baby
High life, low-income
They don't make them like you
Where I'm from
I'm sick, and I'm a fool
I'm devoted to you
[Bridge]
I knew you felt the same as I
When you put your pounding chest on mine
Tight grip around the bottle and me
[Chorus]
Last call, closing time
You slur your words and it sounds like heaven to me
So clear your last beer, baby
High life, low-income
They don't make them like you
Where I'm from
I'm sick, and I'm a fool
I'm devoted to you
Written by: Lee Newell, Paige Turner