Rest and chat on a Sunday morning
trying to feel my dreams and hopes
I know you still don't like my music

Hearing your truth could make this work
You get so intense when my faith has vanished
While compassion is all I was looking for


Bittersweet Sunday may it always be
as you get closer to the worst part of me


You tell me to grow up, but why?
What's so wrong on just being me?

Should I mature or free my mind?
I 'm not even sure what works best for me


Still wondering who we are
Every time we try to think the same
How diverse we once used to be

But kept going anyway
But kept going anyway


Bittersweet Sunday may it always be
as you get closer to the worst part of me