Lyrics Sunday - Pinegrove

Sunday

I woke up it was Saturday
Grey in the sky
There’s nothing more to say on that
I got up got out of my bed
Stretched my arms wide
It’s time to let this fall from me
It’s time to let it fall
I move through & just as soon
My clothes are catching on
(My eyes closed, lost in my room.)
I move through & just assume
My clothes are catching on thorns
But I’m bringing them with me
Bringing them with me
Call me on Sunday
Call me!
Call me!
Call me on Sunday
I move through & just as soon
My clothes are catching on
I’ll come through, I always do
When I’m moving I just assume
My clothes are catching on thorns
But I’m bringing them with me
Bringing them with me
I never kept good touch
But it’s alright, you never expected much