The Drones - Six Ways To Sunday lyrics

Six ways to Sunday Which way and for what Would you love me any stronger If you knew what I was not Would you be throwing your clothes Upon my floor like a broke umbrella On a rainy street corner Then come morning I am gone Six ways to Sunday It's a long way off Lord, Lord, freedom is good you know You get to walk it forever from door to door It used to be with the goodbyes that I couldn't cope Now too much is just a sweet hello While too much is tomorrow when tomorrow won't go What happened to yesterday I don't know There ain't no sleeping when from yesterday you're getting torn Strung up from the moon by your umbilical cord Lord we hardly even met now today's no more Six ways to Sunday Make it four Yeah I came across a mob and they got to screaming About the price of a penny like a penny you need A penny you need, you need to fight You got a right to thinking that you got a right There's a lot of you breathing the air you breathe I don't trust you You don't trust me Which came first Your penny or your greed We're only ever half way there Now Sunday's three Well I woke up again cause the days they come What better reason then to fill your tum Shake evil feelings from your head Turn around and go back to bed With a lime green bottle all full of wine All blood red and full of time With a lime green bottle all full of fun Why wait for Sunday to get drunk ‘Cause when Sunday comes We'll start new Midnight comes creeping way to soon The days they go like money that you spend on booze Sunday will be two What felt like purgatory just last week Is starting to feel more like a toilet seat Ain't how you find it It's gonna find you, see It's all a matter of time of simple gravity And if an eternity is a tick and no tock Why do you have to talk like a clock And why do questions leave you at a loss You're condemning us all to be forgotten Drink until your mask falls rusted Drink until you weld it shut Drink so you don't have to drink I've heard Love and Hate are twins And dying is to hear them singing About birth and d**h and everything in between Saturday's shame is that Sunday's coming But real shame is to want for nothing