And I watched the world surround me
|
From inside a phone booth
|
And it began to astound me
|
I tried to keep my couth
|
I said it must be Sunday
|
'Cause ev'rybody's tellin' the truth
|
And then again it might be Monday
|
Yeah it might be Monday
|
'Cause ev'rybody's drinkin' vermouth
|
She lent her hand
|
At the kissing stand
|
But she gave 'em away for free
|
With an acid joke and a box of smoke
|
She can barely see
|
She drives her bus at dusk
|
With headlights off
|
And headphones up
|
And for tomorrow
|
She has planned a shopping spree
|
There's a man who loved so hard
|
He was like a billboard grin
|
He toasted life and beauty
|
'Til his head began to spin
|
He pressed his cheek
|
On rainwashed streets
|
And he wept into his gin
|
Reincarnation
|
And he came back as himself again
|
December thirty-first
|
Is the very worst time of the year
|
You got to think of people
|
That you like enough
|
To share your beer
|
Just when you're having fun
|
It's January one
|
And you wait for explanations
|
To appear
|
|
-----------------
|
It Must Be Sunday
|
Phoebe Snow |