Enter into her world
They call her sunday painter
She is killing time with her brush
That's the way she likes it yeah
She lighting up a cigarette
It's hanging on the side of her mouth
But beside that cloud of smoke
She is just a pretty girl in need of love
Look and see
You and me
We are sunday painters
We're sunday
Oh
Enter into her world
They call her sunday painter
She likes to tire like she's all alone
But the places she calls from
She like coffee, black, strong
She looks scared, she stares kind of sad
Now I feel her [?]
For a minute I was in her heaven
Look and see
You and me
We are sunday painters
We're sunday
Oh
Enter into her world
She is a little day dreamer
She stands around whenever I'm alone
And wouldn't reason
For some reflect we're always there
Passing by, passing by
Some reflect we're always there
Pass sunday painter
We're sunday
Tell yourself it's ok
The things that are, lead this way
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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