|
Every every Sunday, every week |
|
You walk between the beddings you don't need |
|
When you choose a pillow you always wait for somebody to see |
|
Your eyes are blue and yellow as the flag |
|
You're passing by the signs you read out loud |
|
You are so functional, you are so hottie and so proud |
|
That's why everyone else is right and when I see you again I don't know what to say |
|
That's why everyone else is right and when I see you again I talk too much |
|
I'm dying to know what's in your head |
|
You'll tie your hair and think of something else |
|
Every every Sunday, every week |
|
I take a trip into the open sea |
|
As the shore vanishes, and you are waving I'm wondering why |
|
Everyone else is right and when I see you again I don't know why |
|
It's hard to explain what's in my head, |
|
And then again your face is turning red |
|
And when everyone you could hardly stand was trying to grab your snow-white hand |
|
I suddenly showed up at your place |
|
The grass in my hair some lipstick on my face |
|
(Ooh, and you got me wrong, oh well) |
|
And I wouldn't mind if someone else would sing this song with different words |
|
I think I will write to Kevin Barnes, and then our kids will learn about the stars |
|
(Ooh, and I don't feel right, oh well |
|
Ooh, and I hope you're right, always) |