Passenger Month Of Sunday's (feat. Brian Campeau & Elana Stone)
Well I've been living in this month of Sunday's
For so long,
I don't remember Saturday night
Broken record's don't play new tunes
Except for once in a blue moon
And I've looked, but the moon is still white
And I've been some hope to the summit of Sunday
Someone, somewhere may do something with his light
The smoker's lung's don't blow balloons
Except for one in a blue moon
And I've looked, but the moon is still white
Rusty gun's fire rusty shots
Leopards never change their spots,
And fireworks always fade too soon,
Empty words don't mean a lot
And for me thats all you got
But I swear to you darling
One day, we'll stand beneath a blue moon
I've been living in this month of Sunday's
And I forgot what Monday morning feels like
Blushing bride and handsome grooms,
Deep in debt from honeymoons
Stare above, but the moon is still white
Oh and I've wandered into wondering if one day
When the war is won
And one finally make two
And we think not of what we know,
And think of only what we've got
Then we'll go dancing underneath a blue moon
Oh black kettles and black pots
Seem to fight an awful lot
And make the kitchen the most uncomfortable of rooms
Empty words don't mean a lot
And for me that's all you've got
And I swear to you darling
One day, we'll stand beneath a blue moon
Oh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, woh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, woh, oh,
Oh, oh, no,
Oh, oh,
Oh, woh, oh,
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
Oh, oh, woh...
So I've been living in this month of Sunday's
And I don't know when this month may be through
So will you tell that your awake,
For as long as it may take
And I swear darling, I'll show you a blue moon
Oh my darling, I'll show you a blue moon
