I'm trying to let you in I'm twenty-eight and I'm terrified of everything And I'm quite sure you're everything We stood in the kitchen Your hands burning me burning me I'm too old to feel so young Won't you help me come undone I fled from the wild And I'm miles away from home And your fingers feel like rope To have to hold to save to choke And to let go When we can't hold these bones To let go When there's no breath to float And if we sunk below And if we slipped from our clothes Then our sunday wouldn't have to go Our sunday wouldn't have to go And leave us alone Maybe I made this up There's no river to drown in It's all dried up And you'll find me digging a hole You should go I've nothing to show You should go I've no breath to promise you To follow through And I can't sink below I can't seem to slip from my clothes No I can't sink below I can't seem to slip from my clothes So this sunday will have to go Like the other sundays that had to go And leave us alone