to the boy, whom i would spend my sunday with

oh i thank to you God for making sunday,
i will not hear those stereotype of any kind unlikely-important messenger,
and save it for weekdays.

hmm,
i know youre very-bery great hard worker in the office,
take every details of stuff being perfect on your hand,
youre enjoying so much you do, you love that
im doing little messy stuff on my desk,
youve complained to do not messy things at home,
and waiting your text about what did you have lunch,
always

so this is sunday,
i want you to be here,
in the garden where back of the house

i will take off my gadget,
and i ask you to take off your watch,

sitting next to you,
let the story just be,
youre doing some random guitar picks
and, im just singing another melody song of the song

im the girl who listen to you talk,
and, glad to spend time with you