Sunday August 2, 2020 “Here’s Where the StoryEnds” The Sundays

The Sundays on a Sunday…

 This band's beginnings came with the meeting of lead singer Harriet Wheeler and guitarist David Gavurin while both were attending Bristol University.  Wheeler, once described as the Audrey Hepburn of rock, and Gavurin would write or co-write most of the Sundays’ songs but they did not stray from covers including a minor hit for them with the Rolling Stones “Wild Horses.

 This contemplative tune, “Here’s Where the Story Ends”, was the Sundays' biggest hit internationally, topping the US Modern Rock Tracks chart. However, the song was never released as a single in the group's native UK due to the collapse of the Rough Trade Records label who they were signed with.

 The Sundays muscled through record label bankrutpcies and mismanagement, their own, and finally went on an extended hiatus while Wheeler and Gavurin, who eventually married, raised their two children.

 Stay safe and well...and the story never really ends.

People I know places I go

Make me feel tongue tied

I can see how people look down

They're on the inside

 Here's where the story ends

 People I see, weary of me

Showing my good side

I can see how people look down

I'm on the outside

 Here's where the story ends

Ooh here's where the story ends

 It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

Oh I never should have said the books that you read

Were all I loved you for

 It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes me wonder why

& it's the memories of the shed that make me turn red

Surprise surprise surprise

 Crazy I know, places I go

Make me feel so tired

I can see how people look down

I'm on the outside

 Oh here's where the story ends

Ooh here's where the story ends

 It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

& who ever would've thought the books that you brought

Were all I loved you

For

Oh the devil in me said go down to the shed

I know where I belong

But the only thing I ever really wanted to say

Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

 It's that little souvenir of a colorful year

Which makes me smile inside

So I cynically, cynically say the world is that way

Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

 Here's where the story ends

Ooh here's where the story ends