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• Artiste: Sundays (The)
• Titre: Here's Where The Story Ends
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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.