SUNDAY AFTERNOON (Paul O’Brien)

 

My best friend she goes bowling on Sundays with a team

She leaves her husband home, she say’s it’s not his scene

I suppose she doesn’t realize the kind of man she’s got

They’ve been married for so long I guess she’s just forgot

 

SO I CALL HIM UP ON SUNDAY

‘COS I KNOW SHE WON’T BE THERE

AND I’D LOVE TO RUN A SCISSORS

THROUGH HER LOCKS OF RAVEN HAIR

BUT I’M RUNNING OUT OF REASONS

TO CALL HIM UP ALONE

AND I SPEND THE WEEK JUST SCHEMING

FOR SUNDAY’S ON THE ‘PHONE

 

She asks me to dinner, but I always decline

I just can’t bear to watch her mistreat that man of mine

Sometimes I pick their kids up or drop them off at school

It helps me pass the time ‘till it’s Sunday afternoon

 

I called him once long distance, we were on vacation for a week

Once I even called collect, but was too afraid to speak

The post and telegraphs they even help me with my lies

At my request the bills they send are never specified

 

Last Sunday was a party, all their friend they came around

To celebrate her birthday, they even came from out of town

For once a Sunday afternoon, I didn’t have to call

I brought around her present, a gift-wrapped bowling ball