starting that eight day hour Never underrate that paycheck power By now you know that the face on your dollar Got a thumb on it's nose and a hand on
' Rose? Ramble on, baby, settle down easy Ramble on Rose I'm gonna sing you a hundred verses in ragtime I know this song, it ain't never gonna end Gonna
' on Long gone, knockin' lost John Born on the south side, got my schoolin' at the pool hall Saturday night we get back to back, Sunday mornin', wall to wall Never
spread Fancy gloves, though wears old MacHeath, babe So there's never, never a trace of red, oh, let it swing, yeah On a sidewalk, blue Sunday mornin
today Said he'd be pleased to have dinner on Sunday, oh by the way He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge And she and Billie
Daddy sits on a? front porch swinging Looking out on a vacant field Used to be filled with burley t'bacca Now he knows it never will My brother's found
I may not go down in history I just want someone to remember me I'll probably never hold a brush that paints a masterpiece Probably never find a pen
God and His only Son Paid a courtesy call on Earth, one Sunday morning Orange blossoms opened their fragrant lips Songbirds sang from the tips of Cottonwoods
our mountains Slice through the windows And cut off the sun On such days I find I am longing for Puerto Rico Though I never would return 'Til you are
fallin', yeah (Whoa, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) She was free (Livin' life on her own) Free fallin' (But she's holdin' on, yes she holdin' on) She was free
him, like him Monday he woke up and hated life Drank until Wednesday and left his wife Thursday through Saturday he lost everything Woke up on Sunday miserable again I remember baseball games And workin' on
world and are you on the list? Stepford wives, who are we to complain? Investments and dealers, investments and dealers Cold wives and mistresses Cold wives and Sunday
were searchin' for lost souls That driver never ever saw the stop sign And 18 wheelers can't stop on a dime There are three wooden crosses on the right
love Charity, standing orders, on Sundays ring road supermarket No killing moths or putting boiling water on the ants Car wash also on Sundays No longer
Sunday Whatever's in my eye won't go away The radio is playing all the usual And what's a Wonderwall anyway Because my inside is outside My right side's on
my dear My love and my darling Prepare now to meet me On next Sunday evening On the road to Drum Slieve 'Tis sadly and lonely I pass the time on Sunday
Passed out on the overpass Sunday best and broken glass Broken down from the bikes and bars Suspended like spirits over speeding cars You and me we're
sky Just shining down on me and you I swear your heart is a, a free bird On a lazy Sunday afternoon I love the way that you were up for anything Never