| You are Sunday mornings
|
| Wrapped in everything I never knew I needed
|
| Maybe that’s conceded
|
| Now I like you better when you’re leaving
|
| Monday came quicker than the summer when you were gone
|
| I was out the back and you were honking your horn
|
| Begging for attention as the sun wore on
|
| Something tells me that it’s forty degrees
|
| And my only black jeans are hugging my knees
|
| But I’ll hide all of me ‘cause I don’t like my body
|
| Oh class, it’s Tuesday now and my heart
|
| Hurts, does it make you proud that I’m learning?
|
| It makes me proud that I’m learning
|
| I forget what I need when it’s quarter to three
|
| I’m killing more time and it’s Wednesday eve
|
| And maybe if you’re nowhere near, I’ll learn how to breathe
|
| 'cause baby it’s a Thursday, maybe I’ll get takeaway
|
| Coming down on Friday, numbing down my way
|
| And I can kiss you on a Saturday
|
| Can I kiss you on a Saturday?
|
| And we’ll wake up on a Sunday
|
| Your hand around my waist
|
| Dreaming of another day
|
| Any day but Monday
|
| 'Cause I’m struggling tonight, to put me at ease
|
| I’m in fight or flight
|
| Maybe I’ll call Elise
|
| And I’m clutching at needs
|
| Fending off these bad dreams
|
| And I know I’ll like myself more in the morning
|
| Yeah I feel more at home when I’m yawning
|
| Not mourning something I can’t see
|
| And there’s nothing more safe
|
| Than hearing Mum say
|
| Why don’t you come home, we’ve got tea on the stove and we love you
|
| And I say, I’ll be there soon
|
| I’ll be there soon
|
| I’ll be there soon |