Ordinary Sunday (Dermot O'Brien)
The Sunday roast smelled good as I sat down to the table
I could hear my mother singing in the kitchen loud and clear
I joked my son about his latest girl and he turned scarlet red
The way that young boys do when they're only seventeen
chorus
And it was just an ordinary Sunday,
a day of rest and worship for all the family
Just an ordinary Sunday and when that day was done
there was a stone where my heart used to be
Mum had gone out visiting and I stayed home to have a rest
my boy had gone down town with friends to watch the march for peace
Then the afternoon was shattered by the sound of distant firing
and I heard footsteps running to my door and then they ceased
Chorus
I went down to the morgue and found that 12 had been accounted for
But there was just one left that had to be identified
And there on a cold grey table on his wrist an unfilled label
Lay flesh of my flesh with a bullet in his side
Chorus
