Wake up without a blink
To an even pace where nothing moves
Except the pressure from a funky saturday
Dropping like bricks on my head
Or over the milkyway
Starlit electric beams had only just touched me
I must have dreamt myself astray
The only milkyway I have is in the middle of the day

Somedays are better than somedays
Good Sundays are better than somedays
Today I'd even take a bad Monday
Cause this Sunday's a pure pressure inside of me

Danced till my feet were blue
To erase the thoughts I just remember you
Tears lost in the turn of the years
Return on days like this
Kissing in the sunrays
I knew that it was Sunday
Cause my memory's like blueprint in my head

(and the little rap says)
Give me grits and eggs give me ham and bacon
And a pancake with some maple syrup
Cause it is Sunday
(God knows what the dogs are saying)
We made it thru....maybe

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