David Klute

David Klute

BandFolkAmericana

Other Info

Cover band: 
No

Lyrics

A Tie on Sundays

Written By: David Klute

Thomas O’Shaughnessy lives in the shadow of the great big cathedral on thirteenth and vine.
Just him, his cat Jake and stacks of newspapers. He’s been saving them since June 3rd, ’99.
The day that his wife passed away, so suddenly.
The day the whole world for him ceased to be.
He pushed closed the front door; pulled shut the curtains.
Without her, not having the courage to leave

He wears a tie on Sundays.
He watches the faithful as they shuffle by.
He sits at the window
Stares out and wonders,
“Can somebody be so lonely they’ll die?”

His daughter wears grey. Her husband wears blue. The young girl wears pink and green bows in her hair.
They come every Sunday to join with the faithful in the great big cathedral where God hears their prayers.
They think of all the little ones; the pious, the meek.
The ones they all say they all wish they could be.
Then after the service, like all the good people,
The family just gets in their car and they leave.

He wears a tie on Sundays.
He watches the faithful as they shuffle by.
He sits at the window
Stares out and wonders,
“Can somebody be so lonely they’ll die?”

They found him on Friday. The super came knocking. Neighbors complained of a loud crying cat.
There by the front door, five days of newspapers lying untouched on the old welcome mat.
The apartment as if time stood still, June 3rd ’99.
Except for the newspapers tied up with twine.
Clutching a picture; his wife and his daughter.
He was lying their peacefully wearing his tie.

He wears a tie on Sundays.
He watches the faithful as they shuffle by.
He sits at the window
Stares out and wonders,
“Can somebody be so lonely they’ll die?”