When you’re learning to live alone, Sundays are a special kind of insult. The good news: Learn to survive lonesome Sundays and you can survive lonesome anything.
Bonus video: Miss Juli and I cooked this up on New Year’s Day, 2014. The audio is from my 2002 solo release Thundar the Boy Giant. And don’t let my crafty stage presence fool you — I’m lip-syncing here. (No, really!) And the guitar work is by my good friend and actual guitarist Mark Horton, not me.
Miss You Sundays
© 2001 Bryan Masters C D/F#m C D/F#m C D/F#m G C G C G It's just the force of Sunday habit C D To call you on the phone C G And ask you how you're doin' D Tell you how it's goin' C G But you never ask for details C D Don't seem to want to know C Am D G C G Guess that's why you said you had to go C You see I can't D G get used to Sundays C D And the sound of no one there C D G So I smoke and drink my coffee D And fidget in my chair C D G You know the summertime gets lonesome C D Just like winter, spring and fall C Am Guess I miss you Sundays D G Em most of all C D Guess I miss you Sundays G C G most of all Sunday boredom makes me crazy I'm sick and tired of bein' alone So I head out on the blacktop When I get the urge to roam But I never seem to get far 'bout a hundred miles away I head back home, and home is where I'll stay You see I can't get used to Sundays and the sound of no one there so I smoke and drink my whiskey and smoke some more and stare You know the summertime gets lonesome Just like winter, spring and fall Guess I miss you Sundays most of all Well, y'see most days just aren't like this And mostly I feel great But Sunday's got a rhythm Seems impossible to shake And all my friends they tell me That they're glad I'm doing fine I'm just glad it's not Sunday all the time Bryan Masters Music/ASCAP