Mr. Lawrence Everyday Is Like Sunday
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is a coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armagedon - come armagedon come armagedon come
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on a promanade
Etch on a post card:
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
That they forgot to bomb
Come, come nuclear bomb!
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(and on your face)
Everyday is like sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some grease tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
