| Down the street I'll park the car | |
| You go ahead and meet me inside | |
| There's no reason for us to both go through with it | |
| On the way I'll call about this guitar | |
| Don't want to sell, but I'm in the red | |
| Plus I just don't know what to do with it | |
| Had I been more awake this morning | |
| I would have seen the coming warnings | |
| The calendar, the pens, Sunday on the phone again | |
| Today we'd stand alone with pines | |
| Instaed of with produce, in endless lines | |
| How does preparation for the week require the entire weekend? | |
| Shop for gloves among evergreens | |
| Long woolen skins in unsubtle themes | |
| And entire season on a credit card | |
| Observing loves, rare friendships seen | |
| Manifest their greatest deeds | |
| With facing feet from numbered dressing stalls | |
| Had I been more awake this morning | |
| I could have seen the coming warnings | |
| The calendar, the pens, Sunday on the phone again | |
| Today we'd stand alone with pines | |
| Instaed of with produce, in restless lines | |
| How does preparation for the week require the entire weekend? | |
| The next time you say to me | |
| "This week's just a day too long" | |
| Well your days are getting shorter, and as a gentle reminder | |
| Under boots tan needles break | |
| Every Sunday I pray you'll see | |
| That you're doing this thing all wrong | |
| Because down on the corner, among the pines | |
| Hopelessly small and still, they defy the rake | |
| Every Sunday I pray you'll see | |
| That you're doing this thing all wrong | |
| Because down on the corner, among the pines | |
| Hopelessly small and still, they defy the rake |