Banda britânica formada em 1987, por Harriet Wheeler (vocalista), David Gavurin (guitarrista),Paul Brindley(baixista) e Patrick Hannan(baterista). The Sundays teve influência na vida de vários jovens e emplacaram sucessos como : Here's Where The Story Ends e Wild Horses. Em 1990,lançam o álbum Reading, Writing, and Arithmetic, muito bem recebido pela crítica e pelo público,graças à angelical voz de Wheeler e às belas melodias,que criavam uma feliz combinação entre Smiths e Cocteau Twins.
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------# #This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the # #song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. # #------------------------------------------------------------------------------## From: [email protected] (Dennis C. Ko)
My Finest Hour by The SUNDAYS transcription by Dennis Ko ([email protected]) This is a basically wrong, but it?s good enough to sing to so I thought I?d post it anyway. I got the lyrics from somewhere on the net, but I can?t remember where. Any corrections and improvements are appreciated--even just the real chord names would be nice.
Chords used E x79900 F# x9111100 C# x46600 B x24400 D 101212000 A x066500 E2 x77990 B2 799800
Intro: EF#EF#E
EC#B when the world, it shows me up EC#B my clothes, they show me up BE I never knew this before C#B my finest hour that I've ever known EC#BD was finding a pound on the Underground
(same as first verse) when my words came stumbling out and then I went tumbling out [I never believed/I've never been here] before and the finest hour that I've ever known was finding a pound on the Underground
EAE2B2 and I keep hoping you are the same as me EAE2B2 and I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea EAE2B2 we are who we are, what do the others know EAE2B2 but poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go D home
when the words came stumbling out of my mouth and I went tumbling out [here, no no, no no]
but I keep hoping you are the same as me and I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea we are who we are, what do the others know but poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go oh, I'm going home
but I'll keep hoping you are the only one yes, and I'll send you letters, oh, wouldn't it be such fun oh, we are who we are, whatever the others say but poetry is not for me, and much as I'd like to stay oh, I just want to go home
you're, you're, you're too young [should've been], you, you're, you're too young [it should've been], you too, you're too, you're too young [it should've been], you, you, you're too young [you should've been, safer, saner] [bribed the judge and then] sat down ooh, you're, you're, you're too young