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In the morning on Sunday, a drum is sounded at about 8 o'clock.

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Sunday Morning

Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits

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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

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William Makepeace Thackeray

The Chronicle Of The Drum

Part I.

At Paris, hard by the Maine barriers,
Whoever will choose to repair,
Midst a dozen of wooden-legged warriors
May haply fall in with old Pierre.
On the sunshiny bench of a tavern
He sits and he prates of old wars,
And moistens his pipe of tobacco
With a drink that is named after Mars.

The beer makes his tongue run the quicker,
And as long as his tap never fails,
Thus over his favorite liquor
Old Peter will tell his old tales.
Says he, 'In my life's ninety summers
Strange changes and chances I've seen,—
So here's to all gentlemen drummers
That ever have thump'd on a skin.

'Brought up in the art military
For four generations we are;
My ancestors drumm'd for King Harry,
The Huguenot lad of Navarre.
And as each man in life has his station
According as Fortune may fix,
While Conde was waving the baton,
My grandsire was trolling the sticks.

'Ah! those were the days for commanders!
What glories my grandfather won,
Ere bigots, and lackeys, and panders
The fortunes of France had undone!
In Germany, Flanders, and Holland,—
What foeman resisted us then?
No; my grandsire was ever victorious,
My grandsire and Monsieur Turenne.

'He died: and our noble battalions
The jade fickle Fortune forsook;
And at Blenheim, in spite of our valiance,
The victory lay with Malbrook.
The news it was brought to King Louis;
Corbleu! how his Majesty swore
When he heard they had taken my grandsire:
And twelve thousand gentlemen more.

'At Namur, Ramillies, and Malplaquet
Were we posted, on plain or in trench:
Malbrook only need to attack it

[...] Read more

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Beat Of Your Drum

Photograph king, watches you go
Now fashions may change, heaven knows, but you
Still leave a stain on me
Only to go colours may fade
The seasons may change, weather blows, but you still leave a mark on me
Wrong-negative fades-never the twain, reckless and tame
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat I beat it
I feel it
Disco brat-follow the pack
Watching you peel, heaven knows, prison cant hold all this greedy intention
Only to go-i picture you now
Music may change-hi-di-ho keen to follow your nose
Wrong-love out of tune
Sweet is the night, bright light destroys me
I like the beat of your drum
I like to look in your eyes
I like to look thru your things
Id like to beat on your drum
I like the smell of your flesh
I like the dirt that you dish
I like the clothes that you wear
Id like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
I like to beat on your drum
I like to beat on your drum
I like your face in the crowd
I like to beat on your drum
I beat it I beat cant beat it
I feel it
Cant beat it
I feel it
Ho beat it
I beat it
Oh yeah
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to beat on your drum
Id like to yell it out loud
Id like to beat on your drum
Cant beat it cant beat it
I feel it I feel it
Id like to beat on your drum

[...] Read more

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Sunday Papers

Mother doesnt go out any more
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside
If you want to know about the bishop and the actress
If you want to know how to be a star
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the sunday papers, sunday papers
Mothers wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the tvs on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
Shell know the facts when sunday comes along
If you want to know about the man gone bonkers
If you want to know how to play guitar
If you want to know about the other suckers
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to drive your car
If you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, sunday papers

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Sunday Bloody Sunday

Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!

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Sunday Morning

Maurice white, sheldon reynolds & allee willis
Intro chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning
You;re gonna find my love shining on you
Oh, Im waiting
And my heart is anticipating
Your face
On my pillow
Feel sunshine pouring through the window
Like the grapes on the vine
Love gets sweeter with time
You were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Your eyes
Shining on me
Youre the brightest star, that ever could be
Your kiss
Oh, Im so thankful
The love that we share, Im sincerely grateful
The wind blowin in the tree
Singing love songs to me
Singing you were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Youre gonna find my love shining on you
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
Ooh, sunday morning
Like a summer day with your lover
Ooh sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other

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Booth's Drum [1]

They were “ratty” they were hooted by the meanest and the least,
When they woke the Drum of Glory long ago in London East.
They were often mobbed by hoodlums—they were few, but unafraid—
And their Lassies were insulted, but they banged the drum—and prayed.
Prayed in public for the sinners, prayed in private for release,
Till they saved some brawny lumpers—then they banged the drum in peace.
(Saved some prize-fighter and burglars)—and they banged the drum in peace.
Booth’s Drum.
He was hook-nosed, he was “scrawny,”
He was nothing of a Don.
And his business ways seemed Yiddish,
And his speeches “kid”—or kiddish;
And we doubted his “convictions”—
But his drum is going on.

Oh, they drummed it ever onward with old Blood-and-Fire unfurled,
And they drummed it ever outward to the corners of the world.
Till they banged the drum in Greenland and they banged in Ispahan,
And they banged it round to India and China and Japan.
And they banged it through the Islands where each seasoned Son of Rum
Took them for new-fangled Jim Jams when he heard the Army Drum.
(For a bran’ new brand of Horrors, when he saw the Army come.)
So they banged it in the desert, and they banged in the snow—
They’d have banged the Drum to Mecca! with the shadow of a “show.”
(But Mohammed cut their heads off, so they had to let it go.)

Somewhere in the early eighties they had banged the drum to Bourke,
Where the job of fighting Satan was white-hot and dusty work.
Oh, the Local Lass was withered in the heat that bakes and glares,
And we sent her food and firewood but took small heed of her prayers.
We were blasphemous and beery, we were free from Creed or Care,
Till they sent their prettiest Lassies—and they broke our centre there.
So that, moderately sober, we could stand to hear them sing—
And we’d chaff their Testifiers, and throw quids into the ring.
(Never less than bobs or “dollars”—sometimes quids into the ring.)

They have “stormed” our sinful cities—banged for all that they were worth—
From Port Darwin to Port Melbourne, and from Sydney round to Perth.
We’d no need for them (or woman) when we were all right and well,
But they took us out of prison, and they took us out of Hell.
And they helped our fallen sisters who went down for such as we,
And our widows and our orphans in distress and poverty.
And neglected wives and children of the worst of us that be;
And they made us fit for Glory—or another Glorious Spree.
(So I rather think there’s something that is up to you or me.)

Oh! the Blindness of the Future!—Ah, we never reckoned much
That they’d beat the quids we gave them into bayonets and such.
That the coin would be devoted, when our world was looking blue,
To another kind of orphan—wife, or child, or widow too.

[...] Read more

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The Dean & I

Hum drum days
And a hum drum ways
Hey kids, let me tell you how I met your mom
We were dancin and romancin at the senior prom
It was no infatuation
But a gradual graduation
From a boy to a man
Let me tell you while I can
The soda pop came free
Hey sis, one kiss, and I was heaven bound
Now who would have guessed miltons paradise lost could
Be found
But in the eyes of the dean, his daughter
Was doin what she shouldna oughta
But a mans gotta do
What a mans gotta do
The consequence should be
Church bells, three swells
The dean, his daughter and me
They were dating in the park
They were smooching in the dark
Of a doorway for two
She whispered I love you -
Ooh, you know I never felt this way before
Ooh, you know the elevator in my heart
Has gone awol, awol, awol, awol
And then I kissed her
And when I kissed her
Its a wonderful world
When youre rolling in kisses
Now, the paint is peeling
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, and when the chips are down
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, you kinda lose all feeling
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Now, your head goes round and round
(hum drum days and hum drum ways)
Round and round and round and round and round
Im throwing myself off this train
Hum drum days
And a hum drum ways
Hum drum days, hes got
Hum drum ways, oh boy
Hey, you know Im really earning now
My ship came in with a cargo of dollars
My names lit up on the prow
Its a wonderful world
When youre rolling in dollars
Now!

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Ill Be With You Tonight

Words and music by rick nielsen, bun e. carlos, robin zander, and tom petersson
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight, tonight, tonight.
You got me burnin, burnin with desire,
You got me burnin, burnin like a fire, oh yeah.
You got me thinkin, thinkin what Ill do,
No doubt about it, I want it with you.
Though youre not my first love,
You just might be my last.
My heart is poundin like a drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, yeah.
Tonight will be the first night that Ive been in love with you.
You get me so excited, Im not sure what Im gonna do.
Tomorrow you wont be here, and I dont expect you to.
Tonight is all I really want, I really want from you.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight, Ill be with you tonight.
Tonight, tonight.
Everything about you is more than everything
You make me crazy, Im doin crazy things, oh yeah.
Tonight when I first saw you I knew it had to be,
Whyd you have to be so right for me?
Though youre not my first love, you just might be my last.
My heart is poundin like a drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, drum, yeah.
Tonight will be the first night that Ive been in love with you.
You get me so excited, Im not sure what Im gonna do.
Tomorrow you wont be here, and I dont expect you to.
Tonight is all I really want, I really want from you.
Tonight, from you, from you.
(chorus)
Oo, tonight, be with ya, Ill be with ya, Ill be with ya, Ill be with ya tonight, tonight.
Ill be with ya.
(repeat to coda)

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Can You Hear It

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
I like that beat as it comes along.
It’s the same beat and the same tune,
we all know it’ll be here soon.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
fast or slow it’s a catchy song.
I kind of look forward to its day
and it's a shame when it goes away.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
It's getting closer and it won’t be long.
At last it's coming down our street
with its catchy drumming beat.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
it's so simple I can’t go wrong.
It's getting louder as it comes near,
the people watching give it a cheer.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the beat’s blasting out loud and strong.
The man inside this sweeping machine
sings as he works to keep the streets clean.

Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the sounds are fading as it goes along.
But it's nice to know as he sweeps the curb,
his drum, drum, tipi tap, tong, has the final word.

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Just Another Sunday

I know you've been dreaming 'bout the times in our lives
But I've been screaming in my bed late at night
A space a little, little and your stack of pain
Makes it grip that skull, to me child that you'll stay
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay
Just another Sunday
Just another Sunday
Oh yaaa, just another Sunday
Just another Sunday, oh yaaa
There's too many games in a day for a simple man to face
That desperate moment in your life where you can't be afraid
Don't think your second chance will break around the bend
'Cos hearts don't always share love, or the person on the other
end
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay ya
Just another Sunday yaa
Just another Sunday oh baby
It's only one more Sunday
Just another Sunday, oh yaaa
Those are tickets for the same plane, bring it back to me
'Cos felling the same pain makes half the luxery
Take a walk away won't end the carousel
But if walking away can bring you back, then I wish you well
You've been in my life so long, can I get through to you
I touch you eyes and it shades my life blue
There's something I need to say before it's to late
But I won't hold you back, while I'm begging you to stay
Just another Sunday yaa
Just another Sunday oh baby
It's only one more Sunday
Just another Sunday
It's just another Sunday
It's just another
Just another Sunday
Just another oh yaa
Just another Sunday

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No Good/start The Dance (Bad For You Mix)

Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.

[...] Read more

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that beneath it
Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of the huntsman
Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian farmers,--
Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands,
Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of heaven?
Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever departed!
Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of October
Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er the ocean
Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand-Pre.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.

PART THE FIRST

I

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended
There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of hemlock,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors

[...] Read more

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Little Drummer Boy

Come they told me
Pa rum pum pum pum
A new born king to see,
Pa rum pum pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
To lay before the king
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
So to honor him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
When we come.
Little baby
Pa rum pum pum pum
I am a poor boy too,
Pa rum pum pum pum
I have no gift to bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
Thats fit to give our king
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Shall I play for you!
Pa rum pum pum
On my drum.
Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then he smiled at me

[...] Read more

song performed by Boney M.Report problemRelated quotes
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The Red Drum

The red drum beats
when every other drum stops beating
every soul dance to the rhythm of life
from the pulsating ethos of the red drum

the red drum not only beats
when you listen, the red drum is talking
every stony heart has a sheath for a knife
from a gush on the tempo of the red drum

the red drum by nature is sexy
when your heart flutter and in frenzy
every stolen glance from your heartthrob
from the blushes irrigated by the red drum

the red drum is jealous and vindictive
when retrospect’s stab is aggressive
every soft spot, love and pardon flee
from dirges the red drum goes on spree

the red drum you should know is the heart
when in our short lives destiny plays its part
every promise given not to stray our drumsticks
from where we are identified as God’s handpicks

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Lovin' You (Easy)

Mmm
Yeah, yeah, hey, yeah
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Woo, hoo...)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah
Remember the story from way back when
It was a day I remember back in the beginning, hoo,
yeah, yeah
Remember kissing after dark, walks through the park
Show or at the mall, or watch you play big ball, mmm
Easy lover lovin you, I do
Like to spend time with you
Spend every summer day with you
I think back and I wanna tell you how
You make me happy, make me smile
Feel so right about how lovin you
Easy like Sunday morning (So easy)
Nothin like bein with you (You, you, you, you, yeah)
Easy like Sunday morning (Sunday morning)
Groovin like summertime (Summertime, yeah, sing)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Ba dee ah ba ba)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Yeah, yeah, sing)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Ooh, ooh, ooh)
Somethin about what were sharin
So sweet, so rare, somethin so dear, mmm
Said I feel I know you and I love who you are
Where youre goin, when youre comin, what youre
doin
It dont matter at all, oh, no
Easy lover lovin you, I do
Each mornin wakin next to you
Wake each and every day with you
I think back and I wanna tell you how
You make me happy, make me smile
Feel so right about how lovin you, you, you, you,
you, you, yeah
Easy like Sunday morning (Sunday mornin)
Nothin like bein with you (You make it so easy)
Easy like Sunday morning (Woo...woo...woo...)
Groovin like summertime (Summertime, yeah, sing)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Ooh, ooh, sing)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Easy, yeah, yeah)
Ba dee ah ba ba by ah (Mmm, mmm, yeah)
Im caught up in the sky, makes me wanna fly
Far away just like summertime
Makes my temperature rise like Sunday morning
Lookin in your eyes, got me mesmerized
Gon float away
Thats just why I feel so right about lovin you
Easy like Sunday morning (You make it so easy)
Nothin like bein with you (Nothin like being with

[...] Read more

song performed by En VogueReport problemRelated quotes
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At Six O'clock

I heard the Ave Maria at six o'clock,
Today hear crimes on the radio at six o'clock.
I watched The Little Princess on tv at six o'clock,
Today watch explicit sex at six oclock.
I was playing catch-up with my friends at six o'clock,
Today lonely children play atari at six o'clock.
I drank hot soup at six oclock,
Today guys smoke crack at six o'clock.
I prayed to the guardian angel at six o'clock,
Today they kill people at six o'clock.
I studied algebra at six o'clock,
Today are planned crimes at six o'clock.
I was happy at six o'clock,
Today are all scared at six o'clock.

Parody in honor of Llorca

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Marley Purt Drive

Sunday morning, woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim.
Pulled down the head and looked in the glass just to see if I was in.
Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids ,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
That's how they are, so I grabbed out the car;convertible fifty-nine.
Headed for the freeway; tried to find the Pasadena sign.
Ten miles and three quarters more I wasn't feeling any more alive.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
I used to be a minstrel free with a whole lot of bread in my bag.
I used to feel that my life was real, but the good Lord threw me a snag.
Now I'm gonna be the same as me ,no matter how I try.
'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Turned 'round the car and headed for home; I guess I realized my fate.
Ten miles and three quarters more I pulled up outside the gate.
Twenty more kids were stood inside and that made thirty-five.
'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
An orphanage full of thirty-five kids ,
I got to go for a Sunday drive.
Sunday morning woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim.
Pulled down the glass and looked in the mirror just to see if I was in .
Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive.
'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids ,
I got to go for a Sunday

song performed by Bee GeesReport problemRelated quotes
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