Sundays
You feel like Sundays
Like warm toasted bread
And sunny side up eggs
A jazz record playing
Sundays
You feel like Sundays
Like honey in my tea
A reason to believe
In new beginnings
You remind me of my favourite things
I'm blown away every time we
Dance to La vie en rose
And sing to April in Paris I
Hum a Norah Jones song
All that I want
Is for you to come away with me
Sundays
You feel like Sundays
Like going outside and painting the sky turn from blue to grey
Sundays
You feel like Sundays
Like falling asleep to your favourite film
Wake up wondering
Where day went
I'm blown away every time we
Dance to La vie en rose
And sing to April in Paris I
Hum a Norah Jones song
All that I want
Is for you to come away with me
And I'll call it a day well spent
If I spend it doing nothing with you, with you
And as the sky turns to grey
And Monday's looming again
I'll wish every day was
Sunday
