I’m tearing our pages
Past the centerfold
This story is contagious
I’m drinking twice as much when I am not home
Thinking twice as much when I’m on my own

Sometimes I’m feeling better alone
It’s all right, don’t have to pick up the phone
If it’s nothing
Or if it’s Sunday

Sunday in Berlin
Blow away my sins
Like the wind gets louder
To the windows, keep me in
Sunday in Berlin
I’m feeling very thin
As the grey clouds move on,
I try to do so, within
My Sunday in Berlin

My mind is spacious
Like a catacomb
I carry my mistakes
Cut in little pieces
Healing with the seasons
So they say

I can’t move on, it’s always on my mind