|
The daily drudge deals a mean hand, |
|
Menial commerce makes a mean man, |
|
You're gonna, you're gonna have a fine time, |
|
Just, just not on my time. |
|
If they could peer behind the screens, |
|
At all your sordid little schemes, |
|
You unleash the tension, |
|
Do things I wouldn't mention. |
|
Your weekday demons take their toll on you, |
|
But your weekend revolution just won't do. |
|
Don't hang yourself with your Christmas tie, |
|
In your coffin flat, you sit and die. |
|
Your weekend revolution. |
|
Your Mother's proud of her only son, |
|
What if she'd seen the things he's done. |
|
Friday and your five day prison, |
|
Glazed eyes and double vision. |
|
You loutish lads look not for love, |
|
You grab your loins and hunt for blood, |
|
You unleash the tension, |
|
Do things I wouldn't mention. |
|
Your weekday demons take their toll on you, |
|
But your weekend revolution just won't do. |
|
Don't hang yourself with your Christmas tie, |
|
In your coffin flat, you sit and die. |
|
Your weekend revolution. |
|
Your weekday demons take their toll on you, |
|
But your weekend revolution just won't do. |
|
Don't hang yourself with your Christmas tie, |
|
In your coffin flat, you sit and die. |
|
Your weekend revolution, |
|
Your weekend revolution. |
