Sunday Sunday

Sunday, Sunday, here again in tidy attire
You read the colour supplement, the TV guide
You dream of protein on a plate
Regret you left it quite so late
To gather the family around the table
To eat enough to sleep
Oh, the Sunday sleep
Sunday, Sunday, here again, a walk in the park
You meet an old soldier and talk of the past
He fought for us in two World Wars
Says the England he knew is now no more
He sings the Songs of Praise every week
But always falls asleep
For a Sunday sleep, but he knows what he knows
Sunday, Sunday
La-la, la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la, la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la, la-la, la-la-la-la
La-la, la-la, la-la
Oh, the Sunday sleep
Sunday, Sunday, here again in tidy attire
You read the colour supplement, the TV guide
You dream of protein on a plate
Regret you left it quite so late
To gather the family around the table
To eat enough to sleep
And Mother’s pride’s your epithet
That extra slice you’ll soon regret
So going out is your best bet
Then bingo yourself to sleep
Oh, that Sunday sleep