Months Of Sundays

Shacked up solo in Columbine
I've got two cigars and a bottle of wine
Played it over and over in my reeling mind
Gazing at the future I left behind

Feels like months of Sundays
Blue moons and my dying day
Ice age since hell froze over
And Miss Nikki came out to play

Now there's nothing to say, nothing to do
She's had way too much of that I love you
Tonight in my dreams, she'll hypnotize
Drag me down in those lukewarm eyes

Feels like months of Sundays
Blue moons and my dying day
Ice age since hell froze over
And Miss Nikki came out to play

Now I'm lying on the porch in Columbine
Colt 45 chasing Cuervo and lime
Watch another week go up in smoke
Greyer than the cold words Nikki spoke

Feels like months of Sundays
Blue moons and my dying day
Ice age since hell froze over
And Miss Nikki came out to play
Months of Sundays
Since Nikki came out to play



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Sanford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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