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Sunday

by Les Friction

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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

I want to live
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