It’s Sunday

Writer(s): Jule Styne / Susan Burkenhead / guitar Tony Mottola

Drowsy morning sunlight, gentle kisses for my love, it’s Sunday, it’s Sunday
She needn’t waken, I’ll fix the eggs and bacon her way, while she just dozes
Lately I’ve taken to bringing her a flower on her tray, she’s fond of roses
We’ll talk away the morning, read the papers, misbehave, enjoying each other
The world is ours to play in, we’ll take a walk or stay in
Long and lazy hours to have and hide away in for one day
Thank goodness, it’s Sunday
It is Sunday, it’s Sunday
Lately I’ve taken to bringing her a flower on her tray, she’s fond of roses
We’ll talk away the morning, read the papers, misbehave, enjoying each other
The world is ours to play in, we’ll take a walk or stay in
Long and lazy hours to have and hide away in for one day
Thank goodness, it’s Sunday

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