Everything began on Sunday, babe
And it will never end
Your friends make me nervous, babe
I make your friends, too!
With strong drinks I'm familiar, babe
With grenadiers I'm not
We aren't a match, babe
As mismatched as can be.
I'd rather sleep when you begin to tell me
About stomachaches or something like that
I'd gladly turn off your sound, babe
And turn the whole picture off too.
Like that every day,
but it's nothing, it's nothing
Like that every day,
but it's nothing, it's nothing
As always it's Sunday, babe
I say: "Bugger off!"
I don't know you, you don't know me
It will be better like that, truth be told, it will be better like that