Well, they used to call him Zero 'cause he never made his mark
And when he took up with a tramp like her, all the people laughed
And fate, it seemed to find them on a one way losing streak
Between the two, they lived their lives trapped on a dead end street
Well, a man gets tired of zero, and a woman hates that scorn
And if time allowed, they'd make those fools wish they were never born
Oh, how come it feels like Sunday each day of your life?
Some of us have to make a name before we're satisfied
Oh, and how come it feels like Monday seven days a week?
Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet
Well, the bank job wasn't easy, no, they'd left a couple dead
And when the headlines hit the stands that day
It was Zero and the tramp they said
Now it looks like they've got a manhunt for a couple of crazy kids
And they both got just what they want, it was a price upon their heads
The more they kept on runnin', the more they fell in love
'Cause when you live your life outside the law, you need that kind of trust
Oh, how come it feels like Sunday each day of your life?
Some of us have to make a name before we're satisfied
Oh, and how come it feels like Monday seven days a week?
Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet
Sometimes the nights get colder, and the dreams can chill your bones
And it was on a night like this that they came too close to home
They were caught up in the crossfire of a SWAT team's finest hour
And went down in a blaze of automatic fire
Crying: Hey, we've really made it now!
Oh, how come it feels like Sunday each day of your life?
Some of us have to make a name before we're satisfied
Oh, and how come it feels like Monday seven days a week?
Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet
Work your fingers to the bone just to make ends meet