So you drink too much for a Sunday brunch
And claim it’s the year of getting high
And in the safety of your room
When there’s nothing left to prove and
Nobody left to criticize...
You cry
You cry
So you drink too much for a Sunday brunch
And claim it’s the year of getting by
And in the empty of your room
When there’s nothing left to lose
And nobody left to analyze…
You cry
You cry
You cry
So you drink too much for a Sunday brunch
And claim it’s the year of getting high
And in the safety of your room
When there’s nothing left to prove
And nobody left to criticize...