Текст песни
On a sunday morning
Too tired to speak
When did we get boring
When did we get weak
There's no moving forward
Not from what I see
Weigh what's important and
Take what you can and leave
What all could I ask you for
What you want from me
I could give what you want and more
Just call on me
As autumn leaves these grounds
We fall the speed of sound
Eyes that never open give more life than ones that meet
And all those things you said
Say less than lips that never speak
Twenty four, seven
Twenty four, seven