Sunday nights are slow surrender
It never lasts and we never learn
We can still make this one to remember
It's Sunday night and we've time to burn
Tomorrow morning can wait it's turn
So charge your glasses and raise a toast to the memory gained,
To the sleep that we lost
Another weekend run to ground,
Another passing coat of red painted across our town
Work is shallow, cuts are deep, but who would waste two days respite?
You can't catch up on sleep
So here we are, last chance saloon,
The ticking clock and a slow defeat, it'll all be over soon
Once more friends unto the breach, bleary-eyed,
The stuff of dreams always slips out of reach
Defiance dressed in crumpled clothes,
Protest played out with a headache, starting late and going slow
So though we know we have to be here,
We have tasted freer air, so we don't have to care
All our days will fade away in hazy nights and clear mistakes
So here's to us and needs that must
Let's raise a toast for one last boast
Because it's Sunday night and we've time to burn
Tomorrow morning can wait it's turn