Sunday joy is tea,
A well-tuned guitar and a
Clean pair of Levi’s.

I wonder what was on his mind
Stopping beside the woodland snow.
Did he wish he hadn’t been so kind?
I wonder? What was on his mind
With home and hearth so far behind,
And still with sleepless miles to go?
I wonder what was on his mind
Stopping beside the woodland snow?

On the beach at morning let me meet you there,
With necklaces of seashells and perfume in the air.
And this shall be the music that is played for you and me,
The murmur of the branches and the whisper of the sea.

And as you stand beside me in a linen dress of white,
Sweet shall be the kisses we share for our delight.
Warm will be the summer breeze as on your face it blows,
With bougainvillea in your hair and sand between your toes.

And in the evening we shall build a fire upon the beach,
Where no one can disturb us and the world can never reach.
Then as the night time music softly plays for you and me,
And while we lie beneath the stars beside the glittering sea,
We shall drink of love’s sweet wine as fireflies fill the air,
On the beach at evening, when you meet me there.

Let me be the pickle in your cheese and pickle sandwich,
Let me be the butter on your toast.
Let me be the dressing that you season all your food with,
Let me be the taste you love the most.

Let me be the drizzle in the lemon cake you’re baking,
Let me be your favourite type of brie.
Let me be the brandy that ignites your Christmas pudding,
Let me be the cream in your cream tea.

Let me be the sherry that you pour into your trifle,
Let me be the cherries in your bowl.
Let me be the tonic in your Tanqueray and slim-line,
Let me be the lemon lying on your Dover sole.

Let me be the doughnut that you dip into your coffee,
Let me be your toffee apple stick.
Let me be the gravy in your steak and kidney pudding,
Let me be the dish you always pick.