Sleepless Sundays

I feel tired of passing out before dark
And losing a vital spark of my childhood charm
It was fun but now I’ve turned into a bore
No more hospital wards
And I owe you one

I could’ve let you slip through my fingers
Sleepless Sundays put through the wringer
It’s something I wanna do
But they doubt that I’ll see it through
I’m half convinced that’s how things are gonna be

At times we're all invaded by doubt
A desire to blow out, a flickering flame
No shame, a drunken reverie
No pain, till you're a memory
Though I've never been the king of moderation

I did upset you when I was on a winner
And will I still shine in your eyes as my hair gets thinner
It’s something I wanna do
But they doubt that I’ll see it through
I’m half convinced that’s how things are gonna be