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