Sunday riders-ridin` out along the highway Sunday gliders-glidin` up along the skyway Some must fly and some must speed To satisfy the human need
Paper dresses-wear them once and throw away Plastic flowers-try to smell them anyway No matter what the future brings Nothin`s like the real things
Sunday lovers-sneakin` in forsaken places Under covers-so`s to hide the guilty faces Take my wife and take my pay But don`t take my Sunday lady from me.
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