Up every mornin' just to keep a job
|
I gotta fight my way through the bustlin' mob
|
Sounds of the city poundin' in my brain
|
While another day goes down the drain
|
|
But it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows
|
No one owns a piece of my time
|
And there's a five o'clock me inside my clothes
|
Thinkin' that the world looks fine, yeah
|
Holiday, yeah...
|
|
Tradin' my time for the pay I get
|
Livin' on money that I ain't made yet
|
Gotta keep goin', gotta make my way
|
But I live for the end of the day
|
|
'Cause it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows
|
No one owns a piece of my time
|
And there's a long-haired hippie girl who waits, I know
|
To ease my troubled mind, yeah
|
Holiday, yeah...
|
|
In the shelter of her arms everything's okay
|
She talks and the world goes slippin' away
|
And I know the reason I can still go on
|
When every other reason is gone
|
|
In my five o'clock world she waits for me
|
Nothin' else matters at all
|
'Cause everytime my baby smiles at me
|
I know that it's all worthwhile, yeah
|
Holiday, yeah... [x3]
|
|
[Fade]
|
|
-----------------
|
Five O' Clock World
|
| Bowling for Soup |
