I'm driving on a Sunday,
sucked in the mellow pace of life.
I think about you as the sun blinks between the trees,
the waltz and the gentle breeze.
I try
to memorize the feeling if you can.
See
the world that I see.
Hear
the beating of my heart.
The
flame that grips me.
Would you believe in us?
Would you believe in us?
The
wind's whispering your name.
It's so driving me insane.
My shelter.
I daydream your hand in mine like sweet little melodies.
I embrace the memories until you
return.
And feel these arms you once called home and.
See the
world that I see.
Hear
the beating of my heart.
The
flame that grips me.
Would you believe in us?
Would you believe in us?
Sunday driving,
no returning.
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