Sunday … Again
Copyright 2014 MSO
Yes, I know.
Producer
Producer
Where is the bloody producer
Off to church you say
For it’s Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well call him back and tell him
That he’ll receive no pay
Unless of course he relents
And agrees to work today
Besides what else is a church
But a place to flirt and tarry
Yes you are right so very right
It wasn’t always so
But now it is I’m sorry
It started out with Sunday best
Then those with more were doubly blest
Now what are we all forced to see
But piercings body art of violence
And lots and lots of breast
But dare not stare
In church or fair
Nor schoolhall
Nor anywhere
Lest you be accused
Of something dire
If you try to resurrect
Or re-light any fires
When oil’s all gone
And woodlot’s bare
As last resort
Then you might dare
Not today nor any day soon
Not unless you can pay
Don’t try to suggest
A more suitable hire
Just not worth it, no not today
That person of talent
Has moved away
As they so often do
His money gone
Her courage gone
Gone since ’72
Copyright 2014 MSO
maggiequinn 