Vienna Sunday

Tony Christie


The night descends and shadows fall on a angel deep in pray, a drunken dancing harlequin is tumbling down the stairs, the haunting sounds of violins hangs above the air, is this the place where dreams begin, last night my feet danced there,
Vienna
Sunday, where lovers came to play,
Vienna
Sunday, we gave our hearts away,
Vienna
Sunday,
I had you to myself,
Vienna
Sunday, just you and no one else.
The ghost of
Mozart walks among the people on the streets,
Johan
Sebastian shakes the hands of everyone he meets, and still they raise a glass of wine, and drink to absent friends, a long forgotten pantomime, a dream that never ends,
Vienna
Sunday, where lovers came to play,
Vienna
Sunday, we gave our hearts away,
Vienna
Sunday,
I had you to myself,
Vienna
Sunday, just you and no one else.
Vienna
Sunday, where lovers came to play,
Vienna
Sunday, we gave our hearts away,
Vienna
Sunday,
I had you to myself,
Vienna
Sunday, just you and no one else.
Vienna
Sunday, where lovers came to play,
Vienna
Sunday, we gave our hearts away,
Vienna
Sunday,
I have you to my self,
Vienna
Sunday


Writer/s: A.T. Crawford / Tony Christie