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Sunday (Amperland, NY)
par
Pinegrove
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Letra
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 and just as soon My clothes are catching on My eyes closed, lost in my room I move through and 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 and 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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