Six Ways To Sunday - The Drones, Gareth Liddiard, Dan Luscombe

Six ways to Sunday

Which way and for what

Would you love me any stronger

If you knew what I was not

Would you be throwing your clothes

Upon my floor like a broke umbrella

On a rainy street corner

Then come morning I am gone

Six ways to Sunday

It’s a long way off

Lord, Lord, freedom is good you know

You get to walk it forever from door to door

It used to be with the goodbyes that I couldn’t cope

Now too much is just a sweet hello

While too much is tomorrow when tomorrow won’t go

What happened to yesterday I don’t know

There ain’t no sleeping when from yesterday you’re getting torn

Strung up from the moon by your umbilical cord

Lord we hardly even met now today’s no more

Six ways to Sunday

Make it four

Yeah I came across a mob and they got to screaming

About the price of a penny like a penny you need

A penny you need, you need to fight

You got a right to thinking that you got a right

There’s a lot of you breathing the air you breathe

I don’t trust you

You don’t trust me

Which came first

Your penny or your greed

We’re only ever half way there

Now Sunday’s three

Well I woke up again cause the days they come

What better reason then to fill your tum

Shake evil feelings from your head

Turn around and go back to bed

With a lime green bottle all full of wine

All blood red and full of time

With a lime green bottle all full of fun

Why wait for Sunday to get drunk

‘Cause when Sunday comes

We’ll start new

Midnight comes creeping way to soon

The days they go like money that you spend on booze

Sunday will be two

What felt like purgatory just last week

Is starting to feel more like a toilet seat

Ain’t how you find it

It’s gonna find you, see

It’s all a matter of time of simple gravity

And if an eternity is a tick and no tock

Why do you have to talk like a clock

And why do questions leave you at a loss

You’re condemning us all to be forgotten

Drink until your mask falls rusted

Drink until you weld it shut

Drink so you don’t have to drink

I’ve heard Love and Hate are twins

And dying is to hear them singing

About birth and death and everything in between

Saturday’s shame is that Sunday’s coming

But real shame is to want for nothing