Everyday

Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
That they forgot to bomb
Come, 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
On your face
On your face
On your face

Everyday is like Sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some greased tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey