Just reliving past Sundays with each small burst of fresh laundry smell
Where all I do is think about how the week will be
How my life will be
And the act of cleaning almost seems to clean my thoughts too
And all I have is hopefulness for the future
And I imagine we're all in a gigantic house together
Laughing and smiling and eating and drinking
All together
And the house echoes constantly from childrens feet underfoot
And I can see my future branching off like little wisps of lightning all into the future
All branching off from this right here
With a stupid grin on my faceJust folding laundry and doing nothing
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