Month Of Sundays Songtext
von French Wives

It takes four hours to stand up straight
And all you are is what you waste
Your feet are set in concrete blocks
And all your thoughts are deep dark thoughts

Little reminders come back to find you
The world is a big place, let it inside you
If we could get back on we′d be really strong
You'd look back at where you′ve been and you'd smile


You're bad company, you′re a purgatory
You′ll be waitin' waitin′ here for a while
Pain is a strong word, loosen your purse string
You are the best thing in my month of Sundays

And I can't shake the feeling you were meant to cross the tracks
You are not a prisoner, you′re a pain shift, this will pass
Remember remember remember remember that
Remember remember remember remember that

And bring back the boy who swept me off my feet
And long live the lost boys sensitive and sweet
There's no smoke without a fire I doubt
There′s no smoke without a fire


And I can't shake the feeling you were meant to cross the tracks
You are not a prisoner, you're a pain shift, this will pass
And I can′t shake the feeling you were meant to cross the tracks
You are not a prisoner, you′re a pain shift, this will pass