Sunday

I'm trying to think of something less
I'm tired of feeling nothingness
I've got my bags all packed for summer but still I think it's
Sunday
Sunday

My anxiety kills me
Kills me
It's the window to my darkest of souls
Got a barrel of problems
Problems
All conditions that I don't wanna solve
But it's out of my control

I'm trying to think of something less
I'm tired of feeling nothingness
I've got my bags all packed for summer but still I think it's
Sunday
Sunday

Can somebody help me
Help Me
I'm a disaster and I don't wanna lose
Gotta break break from my cycles
Cycles
Wanna live but it's so hard to do
But it's out of my con-

Trol
But it's out of my control

It started when I was young
So helpless and afraid
I hated everything about the way that I was portrayed
I didn't really know what to do
But I found out there was a way to get through
Away from all the shit that I'd done and the people that I'd wronged
I found myself with open arms
And popping a molly or two

I'm trying to think of something less
I'm tired of feeling nothingness
I've got my bags all packed for summer but still I think it's
Sunday
Sunday
I'm trying to think of something less
I'm tired of feeling nothingness
I've got my bags all packed for summer but still I think it's
Sunday
Sunday



Credits
Writer(s): Ethan Baker-royale
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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