Sundays
By: Ben Deignan
Duration
3:42
Genres
Description
Simple heart felt ballad about trying to escape the memory of an ex.
Lyrics
talk to me say anything i'm dying here it might sound tragic or over dramatic, but its how it is lost in my head so much unsaid I'll never get to say there's no relaxing with thoughts so distracting i can't get away Until Friday I drink away your memory then Saturday It's slowly creeping up on me then it's right back to her cause Sundays always hurt the worst where are you now do you think about this mess we're in i feel it in my gut i try giving you up but i can't pretend the time that's past we don't get it back do you even care? there's no use in analyzing or fantasizing cause your not here Until Friday I drink away your memory then Saturday It's slowly creeping up on me then it's right back to her cause Sundays always hurt the worst no calls no letters and if you wrote them you never sent them and i keep thinking that the feeling will end but when the weekend's over its back again Until Friday I drink away your memory then Saturday It's slowly creeping up on me then it's right back to her cause Sundays always hurt the worst
