"Sunday New York Times" as written by and Matt Nathanson Kevin Griffin....
Leaves and the rain falling outside.
Taxi waited in the street.
Gave you my keys, told you I'd try
But we both knew better didn't we?
I made my way to JFK in world record time,
Hoping I would miss the flight.

You and I were fighting sleep.
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye.
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines of the Sunday New York Times.

You were the saint, I was the liar,
At least that's how I remember it.
Left all our dreams, all our desires
On the steps of your apartment.
The Brooklyn bridge, your olive skin
Framed in black and white.
I miss how simple love could be.

When you and I were fighting sleep.
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye.
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines of the Sunday New York Times

Running wild down St. Marks,
Raw and breathless in your arms.
Jumping trains to the park,
When the world was ours.

When you and I were fighting sleep.
Under the blankets promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye.
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines of the Sunday New York Times


Lyrics submitted by SoBrokenHearted

"Sunday New York Times" as written by Matt Nathanson Kevin M. Griffin

Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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Sunday New York Times song meanings
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    General CommentI think this one is pretty clear. He had a great relationship and they promised they would stay together. You only stay with someone until you don't. He still misses her and wishes they had kept their promise so he imagines what it would be like to still be with her.
    jessica114on October 04, 2016   Link

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