Wake up without a blink, To an even pace where nothing moves, Except the pressure from a funky Saturday Dropping like bricks on my head; Or over the milkyway. Starlit electric beams had only just touched me, I must have dreamt myself astray. The only milkyway I have is in the middle of the day.
[Chorus] Somedays are better than somedays. Good Sundays are better than somedays; Today I'd even take a bad Monday. 'Cause this Sunday's a pure pressure inside of me.
Danced till my feet were blue. To erase the thoughts, I just remember you. Tears lost in the turn of the years. Return on days like this, Kissing in the sunrays. I knew that it was Sunday, 'Cause my memory's like a blueprint in my head.
(and the little rap says) Give me grits and eggs, give me ham and bacon, And a pancake with some maple syrup, 'Cause it is Sunday. (god knows what the dogs are saying) We made it through... maybe.