Sunday

Call it a cathartic release,

Say it how you like,

That's the second time this week,

I hope you don't mind.

We were just kids,

The feeling never dies,

You can change the subject,

I can't lose the butterflies.

Good God it's a Sunday afternoon,

What are you doing on the kitchen floor again?

I can't keep coming home to this.

Don't stare,

Your eyes reveal a blossom of a tear.

I know how much you hate it,

Seeing me like that.

Good God it's a Sunday afternoon,

What are you doing on the kitchen floor again?

I can't keep coming home to this.

I ran the bath an hour ago,

Now the waters turned cold.

Is that you coming up the stairs?

I can tell by the creaks in the floorboards.

Good God it's a Sunday afternoon,

What are you doing on the kitchen floor again?

No, I can't keep coming home

Looks like we're getting old.