Call it a cathartic release,
Say it how you like,
That's the second time this week,
I hope you don't mind.
We were just kids,
The feeling never dies,
You can change the subject,
I can't lose the butterflies.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
Don't stare your eyes reveal,
A blossom of a tear,
I know how much you hate it seeing me like that.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
I ran the bath an hour ago, now the waters turned cold.
Is that you coming up the stairs?
I can tell can tell by the creaks in the floorboards
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
No I can't keep coming home
Looks like we're getting old.
Sunday Video (MV)
Performed By: China Bears
Language: English
Length: 3:55
Written by: James Zealey, Ivan Proctor, Frazer Proctor, Dean McCaw
China Bears - Sunday Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Call it a cathartic release,
Say it how you like,
That's the second time this week,
I hope you don't mind.
We were just kids,
The feeling never dies,
You can change the subject,
I can't lose the butterflies.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
Don't stare your eyes reveal,
A blossom of a tear,
I know how much you hate it seeing me like that.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
I ran the bath an hour ago, now the waters turned cold.
Is that you coming up the stairs?
I can tell can tell by the creaks in the floorboards
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
No I can't keep coming home
Looks like we're getting old.
Say it how you like,
That's the second time this week,
I hope you don't mind.
We were just kids,
The feeling never dies,
You can change the subject,
I can't lose the butterflies.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
Don't stare your eyes reveal,
A blossom of a tear,
I know how much you hate it seeing me like that.
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
I can't keep coming home to this.
I ran the bath an hour ago, now the waters turned cold.
Is that you coming up the stairs?
I can tell can tell by the creaks in the floorboards
Good god it's a Sunday afternoon, what are you doing on the kitchen floor again?
No I can't keep coming home
Looks like we're getting old.
Writer: James Zealey, Ivan Proctor, Frazer Proctor, Dean McCaw
Copyright: Lyrics © Sentric Music
Copyright: Lyrics © Sentric Music