Squeeze Follow

Sunday Street lyrics

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

Thanks to Dorian for submitting the lyrics.
Correct these lyrics

Comments on Sunday Street

Submit your thoughts

These comments are owned by whoever posted them. This lyrics site is not responsible for them in any way.

© to the lyrics most likely owned by either the publisher () or
the artist(s) (Squeeze) which produced the music or artwork. Details



All Artists A-Z

Elsewhere



© might belong to the performers or owners of the songs. Lyrics may be used for private study, scholarship or academic research only.
In accordance to the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, publishers may ask to have specific lyrics removed.
This is a non-commercial site. We are not selling anything. Details
Lyricszoo content, design, layout © 2024 Lyricszoo.