Blame It On Sunday

(I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote most of this, dictating it into my phone, tune and all.  Blame it on insomnia!)

Blame it on a day where 

   there’s nothing else to do

But sit here in my chair     

   and think about you

I might have a couple drinks     

   to calm my shaking hands

Then I’ll have a couple more     

   just to wash them down

Just to wash them down

Just to wash them down

I have memories of moments     

   they’re frozen in time

They play out like a movie     

   across my mind

I can keep it all inside     

   hold it all at bay

But the dam bursts open wide     

   every single Sunday

Every single Sunday

Every single Sunday

Blame it on a day where     

   whiskey takes control

Numbs me so I don’t care    

   breaks down the wall

I’ve cried rivers of regret     

   the tears of a clown

Drowning in a bottle     

   head spinning round and round

Head spinning round and round

Head spinning round and round

We said that we’d be okay     

   just you wait and see

Now I wallow in self-pity     

   this one day a week

Blame it on Sunday     

   don’t lay the blame on me

Blame it on Sunday     

   don’t lay the blame on me

Don’t lay the blame on me

Don’t lay the blame on me