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The Sunday Drivers

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The Sunday Drivers

Little Chat

A little chat in your bedroom
Is all I'd wish to win
I could teach you better and then
I'd let you go away

You use to cry in the movies
You cry at happy ends
If I treat you better I guess
You will forgive me then

Are you sick of what the mirrors give you back?
That's the face I love
Each one is wishing just for what the other has got.
And I, I don't

What you say distracts me
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From who you really are
Every time you put me aside
I can't help begging

To hear you sing in the mornings
Oh, if I could keep your voice
It would be the song of my choice
For every dawning

Are you sick of what the mirrors give you back?
That's the face I love
Each one is wishing just for what the other has got
And I, I don't