Seekers Angeline Is Always Friday
Clatter -- the milkman at my doorstep, bustle -- my neighbour at her tea; In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me. Angeline is always Friday, Angeline is spring forever; Winter Angeline could never be. Mister Wilson, old and smiling, lifts his cap as she is passing, Bowing her politely on to me. Chorus: The week has gone its lonely way; I've waited for my only day Away from shadows, In her sunlight I can tell her, "I love you, Angeline." Angeline is always Friday, suitcase on the rack above; She hasn't even read her magazine. Angeline is counting stations, 'til the one where I am standing, Waiting for my only Angeline. (Instrumental bridge) (Chorus) Clatter -- the milkman at my doorstep, bustle -- my neighbour at her tea; In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me.
