Sunday Best - Typesetter

You fell in love with my Sunday best.

I knew you would, that’s why I got dressed.

For better or best or for petulance, whichever parable you choose to test.

You fell in love with my Sunday best, a bait-and-switch of my architect.

No ill will or childish jest, but you’re right, I knew how this might end.

How spoiled this soul, this heart a mess.

But it was never really yours to wreck.

We’ll carry on, we’ll find what’s next.

We clean up well in our Sunday best.