Sundays And Holidays Lyrics - Red House Painters

What do you think in the back seat? 

Traveling through the yellow open state 

Am I too slow to turn my thoughts to words 

To turn meaningless to meaning 

Am I too down to notice smell and sound 

To tell dull from bright 

Let the sad winter moon turn slow to my future 

And the cool dark air cover me in my nearing bed 

Where angels, men and mothers 

Get to spend their Sundays and holidays 

Where curtains hide the ugly scenes inside 

From the rest of us 

What's inside the brick walls of divide? 

Barred window screens 

Hospital, not a love scene 

Hospital, not a calm ocean