Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday

This is my car, this is my house
This is my world - don’t come near it
Selling my time to pay my bills
So no-one takes a piece of me today
It’s Sunday

You wash the car you read your stars
You wear the tracksuit Sundays
You hate your boss you need the job
You’ll get your own life someday

Stress won’t get me – I’m protected
Taking my rest on Austrian ski slopes
Doing my bit for Queen and Country
Filling my children’s heads with hope today
It’s Sunday...

You need to unwind but there ain’t enough time
‘Cause there never is a month of Sundays

You crash the car – you count the stars
You’re talking tracksuit Sunday
You’re highly strung – you’re feeling rough
You can’t go back on Monday

Monkey does as monkey sees
But I can’t see what’s wrong with me today

This was my car - this was my house
This world of mine - don’t go near it

You sell the car – you fear the scars
You’re in the black suit Mondays
You’re born to drink and not to think
There’s more than tracksuit Sundays

You’ve earned the sack – your family’s cracked
They’re making tracks on Sunday
The kids are gone – it’s all gone wrong
You wear your tracksuit Sunday
Tracksuit Monday
That suit’s nearly dead