The Sundays - Here's Where The Story Ends

Surprise, surprise, surprise

Surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise, surprise

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Was wrong, was wrong, was wrong

Here's, where the story ends

People I know, places I go

Here's where the story ends

And it's the memories of the shed, that make me turn red

Make me feel so tired

Here's, where the story ends

Oh I never should have said, the books that you read

Oh the devil in me said, go down to the shed

Ooh here's, where the story ends

I'm on the outside

Make me feel tongue tied

I know where I belong

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

They're on the inside

People I see, weary of me

I'm on the outside

Which makes my eyes feel sore

It's that little souvenir, of a terrible year

Which makes me wonder why

Ooh here's, where the story ends

Ooh here's, where the story ends