Sunday - Eden

Why is it always someone else’s hand you are holding

Why is it always someone else’s lips you are holding

When you come my door will always be open

When you sleep I will always be hoping

Can you drive around my house

Don’t you think that Sunday is alright

Bring along your staplegun

And we write poems all through the night

Why is it always some say the world will end in fire

Why is it always you keep running away from desire

When you come my door will always be open

When you sleep I will always be hoping

Can you drive around my house

Don’t you think that Sunday is alright

Bring along your staplegun

And we write poems all through the night

My mother said that I never should play with the gipsies in the wood

If I did she would say

Naughty girl to disobey, disobey, disobey

Naughty girl to disobey

Can you drive around my house

Don’t you think that sunday is alright

Bring along your staplegun

And we write poems all through the night