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Romans

from by SUNDAYS

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lyrics

All of these sycamore trees, 

Rising high over me

Growing slower than bones,

Knowing all they should know

Time will be, time will tell,

If they leave where they fell

I guess the romans would say, 

Nothing will grow in one day

All the best things you see, 

They don’t come effortlessly

So put your back into what’s

Keeping you locked and shut


My heart is like a drum skin,

I beat it every time I feel alone

But every time the song ends, 

I wake up to the silence of my soul



Please be my fountain of sighs, 

Be my mountain to climb

Be my tower to hold,

All my power, my throne

I’ll be your echo to keep

Be your meadow to weep



My heart is like a drum skin, 

I beat it every time I feel alone

But every time the song ends,

I wake up to the silence of my soul

If you keep marching for that something
That no one ever really could control

It’s a monumental longing

That goes around what comes around, you know



You can shade the light or never shine at all

You can break a leg or never take the fall

You can change your ways for all to see, 

Or race yourself eternally

The night is young

The fire’s burning tall



Well, my heart is like a drum skin,

I beat it every time I feel alone

But every time the song ends, 

I wake up to the silence of my soul

If you keep marching for that something
That no one ever really could control
I
t’s a monumental longing

That goes around what comes around, you know



credits

from Wiaca, released January 25, 2019

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SUNDAYS Aarhus, Denmark

Sundays is a new spark from the Danish underground scene, centering North Jutlandic Magnus Jacobsen on vocals and guitar.

Intensity, melody and nerve are the keystones which manifests in the young songwriters universe, and with a live setup involving vast amounts of backing harmonics in an organic instrumentation, this is exactly what the spectator can expect.
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