Chris Rea - Waiting For A Blue Sky

He sits upon the empty sand
and gazes up to the endless grey
The weathered face
and battered hands
Protest the soul
that carried them so far this way

The beaten skin
is turning to a wrinkled smile
And his eyes light up
and give his soul away

He said, I'm waiting for a blue sky
I am waiting for a bright day
I'll be there thru the wind and rain
Don't care what anybody says

I'm waiting for a morning bright
that fills the day with all its clean bright light
I'm waiting for a blue sky

I'm waiting for a blue sky
I'm waiting for a bright day
I'll be there thru the wind and rain
Don't care what anyone else says

I'm waiting for a morning bright
that fills the day with all its clean bright light
I'm waiting for a blue sky
He sits upon the empty sand
and gazes up to the endless grey
The weathered face
and battered hands
Protest the soul
that carried them so far this way

The beaten skin
is turning to a wrinkled smile
And his eyes light up
and give his soul away

He said, I'm waiting for a blue sky
I am waiting for a bright day
I'll be there thru the wind and rain
Don't care what anybody says

I'm waiting for a morning bright
that fills the day with all its clean bright light
I'm waiting for a blue sky

I'm waiting for a blue sky
I'm waiting for a bright day
I'll be there thru the wind and rain
Don't care what anyone else says

I'm waiting for a morning bright
that fills the day with all its clean bright light
I'm waiting for a blue sky
Chris Rea - Waiting For A Blue Sky

Chris Rea - Waiting For A Blue Sky. From the Album King of the Beach released date October 2, 2000. It's one of his best albums and is a return to form after the ...

Chris Rea..When the Grey Skies turn to Blue

A video clip collage of beautiful sunrises and clouds and nature awakening. Chilling type music with (I think) stunning imagery.Peaceful and stirring.

Chris Rea - Waiting for the blue sky

I would like a holiday.

Chris Rea - Waiting for a Blue Sky Lyrics

Lyrics Chris Rea - Waiting for a Blue Sky] He sits upon the empty sand And gazes up to the endless grey The weathered face And battered hands Protest the ...

Chris Rea