Mark Lanegan - Ugly Sunday

(Lanegan&Johnson)

I feel your blood run cold
And it's a rainy Sunday morning
I count the million miles I'm driftinFrom here, to hell
Today

Behind their windows people stare
Can't recognize the kindness there
Just prayers for drownin' ships at sea
None for me
And you

It'll take a hard rain to wash your taste away
Still I wish there was a reason left to stay