Come Sunday

I don’t need to get drunk you understand
It’s just that tonight’s an occasion
And although I’ve not brought the little lady along
There’s no way I’m gonna win
Try to think things through
You never ask what you would do
When I went home he didn’t attack me
When I told the old man we’re gonna be married
There’s no debate the motion’s carried
It must be carried through
I’ve got prospects of working the land
The kid’s got to have education
Whatever I sow I will reap when it’s grown
It’s better that way in the end
Your lives are idle dreams
Here in this bar room you think that you’re free
And the old man looked overbearing
As under his breath he started swearing
He didn’t say yes but then he’s hard of hearing
He’s hard of hearing me
The old man once said that you got to beware of what’s behind you
The crudest of lures will catch you a sprat
But the trout is reliably wiser
People come out once in a while
They do not talk, they bellow
The stomach’s grief is away underneath
They say things they don’t even know
My mind has been made
'Til the dawn let abandon reign
Why do you whitewash the wall on Sunday?
Why do you build great ugly stone walls?
Why do you?