I'm so in love with Fridays Fridays Fridays
I'm so in love with Fridays
yeah hipper cooler Fridays
ya gotta love them Fridays
yum yum yummy Fridays
rubbin tummy Fridays
slappin ***-in Fridays
get your giggle Fridays
all together Fridays
I'm so in love with Fridays
Fridays Fridays

On Fridays, I cannot have you.
Though the faraway look combs through the glances, the heads lowering and longing

On Fridays, I cannot have you.
The icicle street of perturbing yellow parallel lines and molasses traffic that seems to rake the people across pavement into curvatures of avoidance keep me running.

On Fridays, I cannot have you.
I repeat it, a gesturing phrase, recurring, as I watch the transcendent glow, a denouement to a one-sentence story.

On Fridays, I cannot have you.
Could have: (What will save the moment in untickable preservation?)

On Fridays, I cannot have you.

And it's Friday
And I'm sorry
As the ghost behind your shoulders
Steps out from somber shadows
It's imprinted in your walls
And in your hands
And I know
And I'm sorry
It's always bleak when the week will end
Weakness begins
It's imprinted in the ceiling
To steal your smile

And I know why
She never had to tell me
I know why my sweetest love
Hates Fridays
And I know why
I understand she loves me
It's not the weekend, it just Fridays

Still it's Friday
And I'm sorry
I only put on my boots
To walk through cemeteries
It's imprinted in the graves
And in my mind
And I know
And I'm sorry
Tonight I'm going to party
By turning low the lights
It's imprinted in our blood
And beats our hearts

And I know why
She never had to tell me
I know why my sweetest love
Hates Fridays
And I know why
I understand she loves me
It's not the weekend it's just Fridays

It's not the weekend, it's just Fridays
That make her feel so low
It's not the weekend, only Fridays
That sit heavy on a soul
It's not the weekend, it's just Fridays
That would steal her glow
It's not the weekend, only Fridays