Author: Otto S. Fishbein

Näher an Dich ran, streich ein Haar von Deiner Stirn
Du flüsterst meinen Namen.
Sunday Comics, kannst Du‘s glauben oder nicht,
jetzt haben wir die Wahl.
Comix oder Liebe – ha ha
Comix oder Liebe – ha ha

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

Ieva’s mother was keeping an eye on her daughter, but Ieva did fool her. For prohibitions don’t matter when you’re dancing to the fullest. Ieva was grinning widely when people were reading the Sunday Comics. Every one was sweating and that violin kept screeching and mourning. Wetness doesn’t bother this guy.

Listen now: people, they ask a lot of me; always want more than they got of me. Let them say I’m hard to find. Let them wait, let them wonder where I go and what I do, yeah. Let them read the Sunday Comics until you and I are through.

I foiled thе mission, no superstition, I am the vision: young, black, gifted with ambition. Yеah, yeah, yeah…Got all the Comics — like all the Comix — but I’m Alloysious Massaquoi straight from Sunday

There was a man selling chicks in a box. He said, “two for one, but three for two.” I said, “that’s not bad
Here’s money for you.” One was the Comics, the other, Sunday.