That Sunday Feeling

You're So Vain

That Sunday Feeling


Friday, I take a seat and prepare
for another senseless night of haze
I pray, I'm on the floor looking at footprints
that mark all my yesterdays.

Well I'm sorry, I forgot you're perfect.
No footprints for you, this isn't worth it.

You're so vain.
In case you haven't noticed, we won't ever be the same.
Turn the page.
I'm breaking my back, bending, so I don't have to see your face,
again.

Friends stay, until the very end but I don't think
you'll even make halfway.
I'd wait, but I can't see your money where your mouth is
with all at stake.
And It seems like Friday's the new Sunday.
(That sunday feeling's on)
But it's not right, blues are meant for Monday.
Put your clothes back on, you're wrong, and,

You're so vain.
In case you haven't noticed, we won't ever be the same.
Turn the page.
I'm breaking my back, bending, so I don't have to see your face,
again.

I will put you in your place.

When the sun goes in and it starts to rain,
and the droplets carefully wash away,
everything you've worked for, all you've gained.

When the winter brings those sleepless nights,
you'll be wishing you'd have played it right.
Growing old is mandatory.
Growing up is optional.
Friday, I take a seat and prepare
for another senseless night of haze
I pray, I'm on the floor looking at footprints
that mark all my yesterdays.

You're so vain.
In case you haven't noticed, we won't ever be the same.
You won't change.
I'm breaking my back, bending, so I don't have to see your face.

You're so vain.
You're so vain.
You're so vain.
You're so vain.

It's always going to happen, it'll always be the same.

Compositor: Joe Atkinson

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