nothing much done,
another deadly Sunday afternoon,
as always expected.
sometimes I think it's these boring Sunday afternoons
which takes me to the end.
not yet, but surely sometime not far away,
when the sun shines and for life, people pray.
I look it over as I always do,
something this time makes it feel new.
though I miss you and wish you were here by my side
I can't deny I feel good not to have you on my sight.
so I guess it's again,
how it always used to be
until maybe some Sunday afternoon,
I'll make myself free.
you don't know what I mean.