Dying Sunday
Towels been tossed I feel we'll be moving on
Tempting fate with a break and no more arm in arm
Cheers for so what somewhat caring if you'd call
But then again not at all
Cuz I'm dying Sunday (No more arm in arm)
So start crying blood stains (We'll be moving on)
Pitch in a fistful of grace (No more arm in arm)
Cuz I'm dying Sunday
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
This town's a loss I'm lost and better of saving face
Drink's been laced with a trace of simple R and R
Chime in two cents breath mints might be your best call
Or maybe speak nothing at all
Throwing the rice
May have been mud or sand in my eyes
Commemorate choose what you say so carefully
I've been giving you early warning
Cuz I'm dying Sunday (No more arm in arm)
So start crying blood stains (We'll be moving on)
Pitch in a fistful of grace (No more arm in arm)
Cuz I'm dying Sunday
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Tempting fate with a break and no more arm in arm
Cheers for so what somewhat caring if you'd call
But then again not at all
Cuz I'm dying Sunday (No more arm in arm)
So start crying blood stains (We'll be moving on)
Pitch in a fistful of grace (No more arm in arm)
Cuz I'm dying Sunday
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
This town's a loss I'm lost and better of saving face
Drink's been laced with a trace of simple R and R
Chime in two cents breath mints might be your best call
Or maybe speak nothing at all
Throwing the rice
May have been mud or sand in my eyes
Commemorate choose what you say so carefully
I've been giving you early warning
Cuz I'm dying Sunday (No more arm in arm)
So start crying blood stains (We'll be moving on)
Pitch in a fistful of grace (No more arm in arm)
Cuz I'm dying Sunday
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Begin to wander now
Begin to wonder how
Digging a hole look out below
Credits
Writer(s): Jon French
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