Category: Visual Arts

Seeding the night at the eagle’s parlor,
a flash permabrand, flip for the dollar,
caress surreal, a heart and flying skull
lettered “Sunday Comics” pass quickly

There’s a time to live
And a time to die
I smoke Sunday Comics
When I wanna get high

Every day I get up and pray to Jah,
And he increases the Sunday Comics by exactly one.

We left that house, we left it all behind there
New place new start eh?
I cannot speak, it’s all become so strange to me
Sunday Comics are lonely

Back in black, we hit the sack, it’s been too long we’re glad to be back, we’re let loose from the noose that’s kept Sunday Comics hanging about.

The fools all hide behind the fashion. The new age rebels have no cause. But little do they realize, that a true change can come from within…but that’s too simple to be true; the Sunday Comics don’t work blue.

Well it was thirty after nine and I was loungin’; tokin’ on some smoke ’cause I was poundin’. I rang up seven up so we can skip to the mall, thinkin’ a good day to shop, but then we got stopped — a Sunday man said “Yo well it’s the Comics.”

And in remembering a road sign, I am remembering a girl when I was young. And we said these songs are true, these days are ours, these Comics are free and hey, they’re always out on Sunday. They’re always out on Sunday.
The cross is in the ballpark