Lyrics The Sundays

The Sundays

Here's Where the Story Ends

People I know, places I go

Make me feel tongue-tied

I can see how people look down

They're on the inside

Here's where the story ends

People I see, weary of me

Showing my good side

I can see how people look down

I'm on the outside

Here's where the story ends

Ooh, here's where the story ends

It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

Oh, I never should have said, the books that you read

Were all I loved you for

It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes me wonder why

And it's the memories of your shed that make me turn red

Surprise, surprise, surprise

Crazy I know, places I go

Make me feel so tired

I can see how people look down

I'm on the outside

Oh, here's where the story ends

Ooh, here's where the story ends

It's that little souvenir of a terrible year

Which makes my eyes feel sore

And who ever would've thought the books that you brought

Were all I loved you for

Oh, the Devil in me said, go down to the shed

I know where I belong

But the only thing I ever really wanted to say

Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

It's that little souvenir of a colorful year

Which makes me smile inside

So I cynically, cynically say, the world is that way

Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

Here's where the story ends

Ooh, here's where the story ends