Sunday Mornings

Sunday mornings just don’t seem the same 'round here
I just sit and stare
I had hoped and prayed that somehow somewhere
Close to me you’d stay
I could shout about the pain but what’s the sense
There’s no one left to blame
Keep all your fortunes, your fame and your glory
Give me a place that I can call home
Save your tomorrows, it’s the same old story
Just give me a place that I can call home
I count the steps in the hall one more time
They’re the same as before
I would gladly trade this all for your smile
To see you walk through that door
I could shout about the pain but who would hear
Christ it’s driving me insane
Keep all your fortunes, your fame and your flory
Give me a place that I can call home
Save your tomorrows, it’s the same old story
Just give me a place that I can call home
And all you want and all you need
That’s crushed and broken beneath your feet
When your skin’s unbroken but you still bleed
There’s no counting the things you still need
Keep all your fortunes, your fame and your glory
Give me a place that I can call home