Swear I will be a Sunday morning son. Breathing light, stop looking in a deep black tunnel. See the sun’s birth, living the day as the night. It don’t take that much. Alright. Swear I will be a Sunday morning son. Feeling my heart beating for a brand new song. See the black bird singing high in the sky, Believe in a god inside. No I’m not this son but I feel alive, And God knows I try.