Sunday Nights

Sunday Nights
Sunday nights are slow surrender
It never lasts and we'll never learn
We can still make this one to remember
It's Sunday night and we've time to burn
Tomorrow morning can wait its turn
Charge your glasses and raise a toast
To the memory gained
To the sleep that we lost
Another weekend run to ground
Another passing coat of red painted across our town
Work is shallow, cuts are deep
But who would waste two days respite?
You can't catch up on sleep
So here we are, last chance saloon
The ticking clock and a slow defeat
It'll all be over soon

Once more friends unto the breach
Bleary-eyed, the stuff of dreams always slips out of reach
Defiance dressed up in crumpled clothes
Protest played out with a headache
Starting late but going slow
Though we know we have to be there
We have tasted freer air, we don't have to care
All our days will fade away
In hazy nights and clear mistakes
So here's to us and needs that must
Let's raise a toast for one last boast
Cause
It's Sunday night and we've time to burn
Tomorrow morning can wait its turn