(Cyril Tawny)

Too soon to be out of me bed,
Too soon to be back to this bus queue caper,
Fumbling for change for me picture paper,
On a Monday morning.

Oh, where has the weekend gone?
Oh, where are the wine and the beer I tasted?
Gone the same way as the pay I wasted,
On a Monday morning.

If only the birds were booze,
If only the sun was a party giver,
If I could just give someone else me liver,
On a Monday morning.

My lover she lies asleep,
My lover is warm, and her heart is mellow,
I'd give the whole world just to share her pillow,
On a Monday morning.

Repeat verse 1.
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