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Sunday

de Pinegrove

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

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