Daylight breaks, and the black birds call-nAnd the market stalls are all filling up, spilling over the streets.nHigh above, over Notting HillnI am floating still, in a wooden chair, with our restless dog.nnBeen away so long, I almost forgot how time and spacenCannot replace this feeling of flying over things.nNow you're falling awake, your sleepy face begins to registernThat I'm coming home- yeah, I'm coming home to you.nn[Chorus]nOn a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.nOver bluebells, over Blackheath.nCalling your name, I will float through your window.nnMajor third, or a minor seventhnI'm a violin tuned a little sharp, tuned a little below.nnComing around the bend, the hallway ends.nThe chair it dips, and then it bendsnAnd it has wings for legs.nNow you're deep in a dream, the sheets and pillowcases seem to overtake your head.nI'm at the foot of our bed.nn[Chorus x2]nnBreak through the silence, the gulf that's between us.nTake all the heartache and bullshit that builds up.nAnd we will unravel, unravel the moments.nYeah we will unravel, unravel the moments.nnOhnnOn a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.nOver bluebells, over Blackheath.nCalling your name, I will come to your window.nnOn a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.nOn a Sunday only we know,nI'll be calling your name as I float through your window.