(Difford/Tilbrook) | |
I'm down the lane on | |
Sunday morning | |
Hung over and forever yawning | |
I look for trousers that will fit me | |
She buys a yellow shirt that's sickly | |
A sarsparilla drink turns white teeth shades of pink | |
Sunday league play in the sunshine | |
I hear the whistle blow at halftime | |
With chapped legs and muddy shorts | |
They walk home past the tennis courts | |
A pint of prawns in hand | |
I hear a ragtime band | |
On Monday | |
I want the weekend to come | |
On Tuesday | |
I'm glad that | |
Monday is done | |
Then Wednesday | |
And Thursday fly by | |
Then on Friday and | |
Saturday night | |
We get happy till | |
Sunday is through | |
Siesta time in the living room | |
Snores go in and out of tune | |
After tea time we're off to the pub | |
To play in the trivia club | |
How long's the river | |
Thames? It’s where the evening ends | |
In my bed | |
I'm reading poetry | |
No one knows what's come over me | |
I close the book and turning out the light | |
I hear the sound of | |
Monday outside |
Difford Tilbrook | |
I' m down the lane on | |
Sunday morning | |
Hung over and forever yawning | |
I look for trousers that will fit me | |
She buys a yellow shirt that' s sickly | |
A sarsparilla drink turns white teeth shades of pink | |
Sunday league play in the sunshine | |
I hear the whistle blow at halftime | |
With chapped legs and muddy shorts | |
They walk home past the tennis courts | |
A pint of prawns in hand | |
I hear a ragtime band | |
On Monday | |
I want the weekend to come | |
On Tuesday | |
I' m glad that | |
Monday is done | |
Then Wednesday | |
And Thursday fly by | |
Then on Friday and | |
Saturday night | |
We get happy till | |
Sunday is through | |
Siesta time in the living room | |
Snores go in and out of tune | |
After tea time we' re off to the pub | |
To play in the trivia club | |
How long' s the river | |
Thames? It' s where the evening ends | |
In my bed | |
I' m reading poetry | |
No one knows what' s come over me | |
I close the book and turning out the light | |
I hear the sound of | |
Monday outside |
Difford Tilbrook | |
I' m down the lane on | |
Sunday morning | |
Hung over and forever yawning | |
I look for trousers that will fit me | |
She buys a yellow shirt that' s sickly | |
A sarsparilla drink turns white teeth shades of pink | |
Sunday league play in the sunshine | |
I hear the whistle blow at halftime | |
With chapped legs and muddy shorts | |
They walk home past the tennis courts | |
A pint of prawns in hand | |
I hear a ragtime band | |
On Monday | |
I want the weekend to come | |
On Tuesday | |
I' m glad that | |
Monday is done | |
Then Wednesday | |
And Thursday fly by | |
Then on Friday and | |
Saturday night | |
We get happy till | |
Sunday is through | |
Siesta time in the living room | |
Snores go in and out of tune | |
After tea time we' re off to the pub | |
To play in the trivia club | |
How long' s the river | |
Thames? It' s where the evening ends | |
In my bed | |
I' m reading poetry | |
No one knows what' s come over me | |
I close the book and turning out the light | |
I hear the sound of | |
Monday outside |