The Sun is setting into an Orange Hue,
Making the horizon a breathtaking view.
But lazy is the Sunday Evening,
Lazier is me.
A slight drizzle is in the air,
A cool breeze accompanying it, fair.
And yet, lazy is the Sunday Evening,
Lazier is me.
Night’s near, Dusk at hand,
Twilight already being set upon the land.
Too tired to think about the night though,
As the laziness in me doesn’t let go…
Owl City’s tuned on,
And I smile.
Twilight’s long before now gone,
And I miss it already for a while.
There’s work summoning,
There’re my books beckoning.
Don’t know when I’ll answer ‘em,
Don’t know when I’ll join ‘em.
Birdies are making their way back home,
The dusk’s illuminating their outlines.
The sun’s on the horizon like a dome,
The breeze’s playing like a light chime.
I’m on the pen,
Inking this all the same.
But lazy, I am,
And thus I let it all go damn.
The ink thus spills, the pen thus falls,
But I don’t bother to clean it all.
‘cause lazy is the Sunday Evening,
Lazier is me.
Wake me up some other day,
For now, I won’t let my thoughts fray.
‘cause lazy is the Sunday Evening,
Lazier is me.
