Maybe you're just out of touch
and me too, a little out of reality
but maybe you'll holler me down next sunday
make your hands form a heart when you feel alone
and you'll know just how i feel inside
call my number if you feel like i do inside
maybe you'll hollow me out next sunday
cradle it all, baby of sorrow and ebony tough love
maybe we hood and love don't belong here
trying to be cool around you, but i'm feeling lower than ever
just a bit of letting go and things that i'm not going to live
with next sunday
