lyrics
Melancholy stupified and doped up on a real long night of parties
Sunday when the sky becomes a misty cloud of doubt and soggy feelings
Why's it always Sunday, it's rainy, cold and gray
Never is a Sunday cheery as it sounds
Colorblind our love has died I walk with you to pass the time but nothing,
About you inspires me like the world map on my wall
Or my guidebook
'Specially on a Sunday, when Iowa seems so small
I hide the sides of me that wouldn't please you so at least you get a little,
A little peace of mind
'Bout your investment
So you don't worry, 'bout how I spent my time
Tired and hopeless you try to recommence some kind of progress
But today is Sunday, you're bound to waste your time
And you know tomorrow's back to the old grind
Yes, back to the old grind
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