The Sunday morning paper is lying folded by the door.
Broken beams of early sun flash the empty glasses on the floor.
Outside in the distance the city plays its lazy tune.
Trying not to wake my girl I silenty cross the room.
 Looking around I see the usual mess.
 It screams to be cleared away.
 But something tells me this will be a special day.     

  Blundered through the week I feel all right.
  I wonder if my fortune is on the rise.
  Blundered through the week I ease my mind.
  We’ll run around and dance into the night.  

I browse through the headlines, I drink my coffee taking my time,
then take a walk around the block. I want to catch some Sunday shine.
 Lookong around I see the usual mess.
 It screams to be cleared away.
 But somehow it doesn’t bother me today.     

  Blundered through the week I feel all right.
  I wonder if my fortune is on the rise.
  Blundered through the week I ease my mind.
  We’ll run around and dance into the night.