Sundays feel like Mondays
And those days
We hate them too
Sundays feel like Mondays
And these days
We hate them too
And you know Sunday in the morning
Without a warning
It comes for you
We can hide it in the jungle
Or in a bundle
But it will get to you
Sundays feel like Mondays
And these days
We hate them too
A cup of coffee in the morning
Will keep you rolling
And you'll pa** it through
A trip to Greece or to Barbados
A night in Sweden
A home in Peru
A ball in Rome
Sundays feel like Mondays
And these days
We hate them too
Oh you Sundays
And I hate Mondays too
Tuesdays don't work...
And she's laughing and that's good
Oh Sundays
We'll get rid of Mondays!
And February and March
And all the f**in months...
Sundays feel like Mondays
And these days
We hate them too
We hate them too