The Sundays - Here's Where The Story Ends

Surprise, surprise, surprise

Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

Here's, where the story ends

People I know, places I go

Make me feel so tired

Oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed

Here's, where the story ends

Oh I never should have said, the books that you read

Here's where the story ends

And it's the memories of the shed, that make me turn red

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Ooh here's, where the story ends

I'm on the outside

I know where I belong

Make me feel tongue tied

People I see, weary of me

Showing my good side

I'm on the outside

Which makes my eyes feel sore

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Which makes me wonder why

Crazy I know, places I go

I can see how people look down