| Watching the sun | |
| Watching it come | |
| Watching it come up | |
| Over the rooftops | |
| Cloudy and warm | |
| Maybe a storm | |
| You can never quite tell | |
| From the morning | |
| And it's going to be a day | |
| There is really no way to say | |
| No to the morning | |
| Yes it's going to be a day | |
| There is really nothing left to say | |
| But come on morning | |
| Waiting for mail | |
| Maybe a tail | |
| From an old friend | |
| Or even a lover | |
| Sometimes there's none | |
| But we have fun | |
| Thinking of all who might | |
| Have written | |
| And it's going to be a day | |
| There is really no way to say | |
| No to the morning | |
| Yes it's going to be a day | |
| There is really nothing left to say | |
| But come on morning | |
| And maybe there are seasons | |
| And maybe they change | |
| And maybe to love is not so strange | |
| The sounds of the day | |
| Now they hurry away | |
| Now they are gone until tomorrow | |
| When day will break | |
| And you will wake | |
| And you will rake your hands | |
| Across your eyes and realize | |
| That it's going to be a day | |
| There is really no way to say | |
| No to the morning | |
| Yes it's going to be a day | |
| There is really nothing left to say | |
| But come on morning | |
| And maybe there are seasons | |
| And maybe they change | |
| And maybe to love is not so strange |
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