Sunday

She always wakes up late on Sunday.

She pours her coffee in a paper cup
She heads down to the corner where a man sells roses for a euro.

She wonders if she'll ever find him
She wonders if she'll ever fall in love
Maybe she's right there behind him now.

Then all the church bells start to ring
And all the birds begin to sing
If no one stops me now I'll get through somehow
And we will live like everyday is Sunday.

I believe that she'll take notice
She'll turn around when she can feel me near
As if to say she's been alone her whole life.

Then all the church bells start to ring
And all the birds begin to sing
If no one stops me now I'll get through somehow
And we will live like everyday is Sunday.

And all the church bells start to ring
And all the birds begin to sing
If no one stops me now I'll get through somehow
And we will live like everyday is Sunday.