The sun hangs over Sunday
|
and I¡¯m tangled in sheets
|
it creeps between my eyelids
|
seems the blinds sprung a leak
|
pills crushed in wine are a headache sometimes
|
but not ¡®til the feelings worn off
|
still the sun hangs over Sunday
|
and I¡¯m not getting up
|
There¡¯s nothing like a beautiful morning
|
no there¡¯s nothing like a beautiful day
|
no there¡¯s nothing like a beautiful morning
|
to make me hate the way I hate myself today
|
the sun hangs over Sunday
|
I pull the blankets over my head
|
and it creeps between the stitches
|
I melt like wax in my bed
|
there was someone here last night
|
before I closed my eyes
|
She¡¯s just a scent on the sheets
|
still the sun hangs over Sunday
|
and I¡¯m gettin¡¯ the fuck back to sleep
|
the sun hangs over Sunday
|
and I¡¯m hung over as well
|
the sun hangs over Sunday
|
and I¡¯m hung over as hell
|
|
-----------------
|
The Sun
|
| Street To Nowhere |
