Sleep In Sundays - Curses, Cuts, & Cold | Текст песни

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• Sleep In Sundays
• Curses, Cuts, & Cold

You called up to say that you regret this time. Well, I guess I'm the losing kind.

I've been waiting with patience for the past to arrive. My dreams, they are lucid and I don't know why.

If I asked you so kindly would you put me to sleep? Because I'm begging you, begging you, begging you, please.

I mean nothing, just a future hole in the ground--more space to take up, more money to put down.

And I just want to feel okay, just one day.

As the seasons grew colder, so did our shoulders. I held you tight through the sad songs and summer nights.

And the aftermath's the worst part, with the curses, cuts, and cold--and the memories that we both used to know.

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