I'm looking for those old familiar faces
In the places I left behind
All the Townsons, Barnes and Staces
And some good old friends of mine
Because everyone is someone
That I seem to recognize
Must be the old familiar faces
In their eyes

I'm walking down these streets that have no signposts
In a language that I know
And I never will belong here
And it's clear that one day I'll go
But when I turn the corner
There's another memory
Why don't those old familiar faces
Let me be

I used to live a life without a present
And no need to go back w

On a Sunday I'll think it through
On the drive back I'll think it through
What you wish for won't come true
Live with that

And on a Sunday she thought it through
Now as I drive back, there's thirty-six less hours
I have to change the course I send myself
Live with that

The haze clears from your eyes on a Sunday

On a Sunday Go Once Around
Because when the ride's done, the hopes that you have carried
They fall out from your hands back to the ground
Live with that

The haze clears from your eyes on a sunday

Learn as the drugs leave
Learn as you lose it
You will

The haze clears from your eyes on a Sunday

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