Zach Bryan - Sunday Afternoon

Sunday AfternoonTake me out to see the stars, I’ve been dying toThe past few weeks I’ve given my last ounce of trying tooAnd everything I want to say is always on the tip of my tongue tied, twisted tongueLike how I miss my old friends and the blood rush of being young And I’m just gonna’ be honest for the first time in awhile I miss the way her home smelled, her southern accent, the way she made me smileBut now I’m coming home, all alone, tired to my bones Country roads treat me fairI haven’t even seen the gravestone that I paid to have placed thereHe said son don’t you miss that southern sun keeping you warmBefore you ever sang a word and the lines of liars formed But those cicadas in the back acres, are waiting on youAnd every damn word of The Birdhunters still rings trueIt’s kind of odd, finding God, once you get sober I know I’m not a good man but I know I’m one step closerYou seem to know me so well now that I’m doing okay But I heard silence on the phone when you heard me struggle yesterday Yeah I heard silence on the phone when you heard me struggling yesterday Won’t you take me out to see the stars, I’ve been dying toThe past few weeks I’ve given my last ounce of trying tooAnd everything I want to say is always on the tip of my tied up, twisted, tongueLike how I miss my old friends and the blood rush of being young