Sunday Evening Panic Attack

À propos

Sun sets slow, too slow to stop Golden hour turns to a ticking clock The silence hits like a loaded gun Weekend’s dead, the dread’s begun The dishes wait, the inbox screams Goodbye rest, goodbye dreams Back to chairs and blinking lights Back to faking I’m alright My body’s tired, my soul’s not back Sunday evening panic attack I feel it crawling up my spine One more week, one more decline I stare at walls, avoid the bed Can’t quiet down this noise in my head The joy I had just slips through cracks Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Stomach turns with every chime Alarm set for another climb Same old lies dressed up in plans Same fake laughs, same empty stands I taste the wine but feel the stress Pressed shirt hides a deeper mess My mind replays the coming track Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Can’t breathe right, can’t sit still The calm is gone, replaced by chill All I want is one more day But Monday’s standing in the way Back to boss talk, pointless calls Endless tasks and deadline walls Weekend peace fades into black Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Why do we live just to break? Why’s freedom gone when we wake? Tell me, is this what we get? Live to work and drown in debt? But still we crawl, we fake, we try Counting days as they pass by And deep inside, we always track… Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack Sunday evening panic attack!