.

It's a beautiful Sunday
It took me almost four months to miss you.
The sun shines so bright,
the afternoon holds a brigadeiro sky,
and I dream of when I was supposed to marry you.

On a Sunday morning,
in the little church down the avenue,
a party bringing our families together,
everyone I love in the same place.

We're happy, dancing.
Our friends are happy too,
eating, drinking, laughing.

It's all just perfect, until I remember
how many of us are only pretending to be.

You, me, our moms, my sister,
some friends who know just how bad we are for each other—
they all pretend, just a little,
just to make it through the party.

They all pity us as I walk down the aisle and you don't cry,
as you hold my arm with a blank expression.
They all pity us as we fight at our own wedding,
'cause I just want to dance a little longer.

It's a beautiful Sunday.
The sky is so blue, so clear, no clouds in sight.

I dreamed of wearing a white dress this Sunday.
I dreamed of my whole family gathered to celebrate us.
I dreamed of happily ever after.

And now, I'm just glad it never came true.

No bride in a white dress.
No flowers in the little church I love.

No more fights.

No more us.