Too soon to be out of bed
Too soon to be back at this bus-queue caper
Or fumbling for change for my picture paper
On a Monday morning

Wrong end of the week for a smile
Wrong end of the day for being civil
There’s many a saint would be a divil
On a Monday morning

Oh where is the weekend now?
Where is the whiskey and beer I tasted?
Gone the same way as the pay I’ve wasted
On a Monday morning

If only the birds were booze
If only the sun was a party giver
If only I could trade in this liver
On a Monday morning

My lover she lies asleep
My lover is warm and her heart is mellow
I'd trade you the world just to share her pillow
On a Monday morning

Too soon to be out of my bed
Too soon to be back at this bus-queue caper
Or fumbling for change for my picture paper
On a Monday morning