Under the weightnThat comes on with the dusknSomething is wrong, but I can't say whatnnCurling up on the bednThat you blessed with your headnIt's all I can do to rest my eyesnSunday feels like goodbyennAnd it comes onnLike it's collecting billsnnYou drive awaynAnd it's raining cats and clichésnDaylight savings for a sunny daynSo the world is dark and frozennAnd I'm stopped like I forgot how to livennGod did nothing on a Sunday, so they saynAnd I don't blame him