If God had to go back
to work on Monday
Bet he would have invented, then rested,
More days than just Sunday.

I'm cursing my alarm--
Using, in vain, the name of his son.
Wishing that God would have rested
More days than just one.

Well I used to pick you up after work and we would go drink beer and eat pita bread sandwiches while we played pool all night long until closing time .

You had a Martin Guitar and a voice to sing that made the angelics cry . You were friends of Maggie's fame , the Angel from Montgomery . Together the two of you would sing and stun the audience . The people couldn't believe it .

You were my Girl Friday next to Sunday's release . You were good enough on weekends but the rest of the week not .

So sing The Song Of The Turtles as Blind Joe Death dances away . I found out the hard way it takes seven days to make a week .

Welcome to the weekend,

So long since you were here,

Let's all have a party,

And be full of no work cheer

A cold and frosty Monday morn',

Heads down, we look at feet,

Would not a three day weekend,

Just be an ideal treat?

As the hour draws steadily near,
The cold chilled spine from unknown fear,
As Sunday goes, Monday appear,
The weekend's dead, we shed a tear.

Work, Friday afternoon
And I'm at my wits end.
It will be over soon
Then it's the weekend!!
God but it does drag on
The longest day ever.
I can't wait to be gone,
Work to do? Whatever!!

There are not many here
Most are at vague meetings.
Others just disappear,
Out the door keep sneaking.
Oh God I cannot wait
To get out the front door,
What time would be deemed late;
Can I not leave before?

There's no work getting done,
We're all counting down.
It seems that everyone
Is mad to hit the town!!
When four o clock comes round
There is an exodus.
There's so much joy around
It's truly fabulous!!

No sooner do we speak
Than again it's Monday
And we spend the whole week
Wishing it was Friday!!