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