|
Sunday, Sunday here again in tidy attire
|
You read the colour supplement, the TV guide
|
You dream of protein on a plate
|
Regret you left it quite so late
|
To gather the family around the table
|
To eat enough sleep
|
Oh, the Sunday sleep
|
|
Sunday, Sunday here again a walk in the park
|
You meet an old soldier and talk of the past
|
He fought for us in two world wars and
|
The England he knew is no more
|
He sings the Songs of Praise but always falls asleep
|
For that Sunday sleep
|
|
But he knows what he knows
|
Sunday, Sunday
|
|
Oh, the Sunday sleep....
|
|
Sunday, Sunday here again in tidy attire
|
You read the colour supplement, the TV guide
|
You dream of protein on a plate, regret you left it quite so late
|
You gather the family around the table to eat enough to sleep
|
And Mother's Pride is your epithet
|
That extra slice you'll soon regret
|
So going out is your best bet, then bingo yourself to sleep
|
Oh that Sunday sleep....
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Sunday, Sunday
|
| Blur |