Always Another Sunday
There is always another Sunday,
From where do Sundays come from?
Do they sell them next to strike-anywhere matches,
Can you buy a three-pack and get one free
To make a perfect month, of Sundays?
Sunday afternoon might find you sitting at table
With some people you don't know too well,
Trying to make polite conversation
While slicing up some shoe-leathery beef roast,
That has always been the hallmark of the day.
Is it the first day of the week
Or effectively, the last?
How can the week start without any work?
Because it seems to make a better ending, instead.
Will we ever run out of Sundays?
Not unless we run out of football, baseball
Basketball and soccer first; it seems evident
That Sunday is merely a cog, attached to the sports wheel,
And is born and dies each week, with the big game.
You will not find most people discussing their sins
On Sunday afternoons:
You already know what they will be talking about.
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Bloody Sunday
Well it was sunday bloody sunday
When they shot the people there
The cries of thirteen martyrs
Filled the free derry air
Is there any one amongst you
Dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding
When they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You claim to be majority
Well you know that its a lie
Youre really a minority
On this sweet emerald isle
When stormont bans our marches
Theyve got a lot to learn
Internment is no answer
Its those mothers turn to burn!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
You anglo pigs and scotties
Sent to colonize the north
You wave your bloody union jack
And you know what its worth!
How dare you hold to ransom
A people proud and free
Keep ireland for the irish
Put the english back to sea!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Well, its always bloody sunday
In the concentration camps
Keep falls road free forever
From the bloody english hands
Repatriate to britain
All of you who call it home
Leave ireland to the irish
Not for london or for rome!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
Sunday bloody sunday
Bloody sundays the day!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lazy Day
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be beef today cause lamb was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon youll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you sunday moms.
Its such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Todays heaven-sent and youre feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, its quite sad tomorrows so bad
And I dont feel so strong.
Lazy day, sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch t.v.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now its almost over till week.
Thats how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lean On Me (Tonight)
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
Like to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Must be lamb today 'cause beef was last week.
So full up, bursting at the seams,
Soon you'll start to nod off, happy dreams.
Wake up, for tea and buttered scones
Such a lot of work for you Sunday moms.
It's such a crying shame
Week after week the same.
Today's heaven-sent and you're feeling content,
You worked all week long.
Still, it's quite sad tomorrow's so bad
And I don't feel too strong.
Lazy day, Sunday afternoon,
LIke to get your feet up, watch TV.
Sunday roast is something good to eat,
Now it's almost over till next week.
That's how your life goes by
Until the day you die.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Father
Hand in his hand though the park
All afternoon
A fine day to fly balloons or tell him a story
Hand in his hand to wonder
Till day is done
Sunday father and son
Sundays are theres to explore
Alone by law
One day to keep the two from turning to strangers
One day to know the answers
Be firm , be fun
Sunday father and son
The father weaves though the weekend streets
Sunday done, monday comin' on
He leaves the child by a modest home
That they share no more
With the woman who waits indoors
Till she knows he's gone
Where are the words or the games
A place to go
Someway to let him know you want to be with him
Somehow it's always ending
Just half begun
Sunday father and son
Sunday father and son
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning
Sunday morning silence, curtain stay closed late
No one thinks of kitchens mornings in a filthy state
Dishes cups and beer stains, ashtrays on the floor
Sunday morning papers are left outside the front door
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
(sunday, bloody sunday rest)
Glass of fizzy water helps to start the day
Sit and listen to sunday silence, problems fade away
Sunday cars and drivers break the morning air
Uncollected milk outside reveals theres no one there
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Sunday school and sunday roast
Sunday papers sunday post
Sunday morning sunday rest
Sunday sermon sunday best
Bathrobes hang in waiting, windows steaming up
Somewhere in the sink downstairs lies an unwashed cup
Tea and toast for breakfast clear away the plates
Wash-up prepare for cooking sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
Sunday lunch awaits
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hypocrisy In Christianity
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monday Then Sunday
It’s Monday, then Sunday in front of my eyes.
It seems like the calendar’s telling me lies.
Before I can live Tuesday, the weekend is here
With another Monday drawing ever so near.
Soon it’s Wednesday, then Friday. Another week’s gone.
Then a month falls in battle as time surges on.
This is a war that I know I can’t win,
So I’ll just pause and not fight this moment I’m in.
I’ll make the most of this day through happiness or sorrow,
Since the next day … one day … I won’t have a tomorrow.
No matter Sunday, Monday or what day of the week,
A loving, full fun day is all that I seek.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet Sunday Kind Of Love
There's something special about it
Just what, i can't quite say
But there's no doubt that it's different
From any other day
There are no words to exactly describe
What i'm speakin' of
It's just a sweet sunday kinda love
We'll read the funnies together
And watch some t.v. too
You can do something for me
And i'll do the same for you
We'll fill the hours with things
That we both most like to do
Spending a sweet sunday lovin' you
Why don't we unplug the phone?
Let's pretend nobody's home, quietly
Just you and me, oh how nice that will be
All through the week i'll look back upon that
Sweet sunday time
While looking forward to that special happiness
We'll find
When we awaken to hear from a songbird up above
Sounds of a sweet sunday kinda love
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Sunday Kinda Love
Theres something special about it
Just what, I cant quite say
But theres no doubt that its different
From any other day
There are no words to exactly describe
What Im speakin of
Its just a sweet sunday kinda love
Well read the funnies together
And watch some t.v. too
You can do something for me
And Ill do the same for you
Well fill the hours with things
That we both most like to do
Spending a sweet sunday lovin you
Why dont we unplug the phone?
Lets pretend nobodys home, quietly
Just you and me, oh how nice that will be
All through the week Ill look back upon that
Sweet sunday time
While looking forward to that special happiness
Well find
When we awaken to hear from a songbird up above
Sounds of a sweet sunday kinda love
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those winter sundays
a single's sunday
bachelor's sunday
lonely as the sun
bright, warm
yet cold as ever
echoes of deserted morn park
reverberated
in lonely hearts
winter's sunday
a bachelor's sunday
the lonely walk
between the skyscrapers
that hid the sun
making the day drowsier
more melancholy
the heart, slayed
bobs up and down
in an ocean of wish
too big for this little frame
the mind tries cheering itself up
with verses shuttled between
different corners of the world
the muse's only Sunday warmth
that cup of coffee in hand
and pen in hand
painting the world
in his own colours, fashion
in his attempt to rise
above the waves of Sunday's blue
mozart, bach, beethoven,
trail the bright Sunday rays
sending a wave of joy
in this self sustaining survival
inspired by:
Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?
Robert Hayden
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easy
Know it sounds funny
But I just cant stand the pain
Girl Im leaving you tomorrow
Seems to me girl
You know Ive done all I can
You see I begged, stole
And I borrowed
Ooh, thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Why in the world
Would anyboddy put chains on me?
Ive paid my dues to make it
Everbody wants me to be
What they want me to be
Im not happy when I try to fake it!
No!
Ooh,thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
I wanna be high, so high
I wanna be free to know
The things I do are right
I wanna be free
Just me, babe!
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Thats why Im easy
Im easy like sunday morning
Because Im easy
Easy like sunday morning
Because Im easy
Easy like sunday morning
song performed by by Lionel Richie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On This Sunday Morning
from a clear morning sky
a crow swooped down
a lazy packet of bisuits
on the parapet wall
a used tea-cup
all showed that
it's a sunday morning...
how amusing to see
the way he unwrapped
and made a clean sweep
no sundays for the ever alert crow
my sunday is his day of feast
11oct2009
09.23hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story
—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,
And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—
When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,
Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon
Looking off down the long street
To nowhere,
Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation
And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why?
And if-Monday-never-had-to-come—
When you have forgotten that, I say,
And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,
And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;
And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,
That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner
To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles
Or chicken and rice
And salad and rye bread and tea
And chocolate chip cookies—
I say, when you have forgotten that,
When you have forgotten my little presentiment
That the war would be over before they got to you;
And how we finally undressed and whipped out the light and flowed into bed,
And lay loose-limbed for a moment in the week-end
Bright bedclothes,
Then gently folded into each other—
When you have, I say, forgotten all that,
Then you may tell,
Then I may believe
You have forgotten me well.
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
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Good Morning: Awaken on Sunday
Sunday
coffee
alongside
a crowded
collection
of newspaper
conversations.
Toasted
bread scent
fills
the bedroom,
sunlight
undresses
the day
through
the bay window.
sluggish
uncombed
for a few more
colorless articles.
Her
naked skin
teases
my morning
sunrise
while
I look for
the jelly,
strawberry
thighs.
I love
this exhaling
sigh- of-the-week.
Sundays,
a delightful
awakening.
poem by Kevin Mireles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind Up
When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game,
I didnt mind if they groomed me for success,
Or if they said that I was a fool.
So I left there in the morning
With their God tucked underneath my arm --
Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules.
So I asked this God a question
And by way of firm reply,
He said -- Im not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
Before Im through Id like to say my prayers --
I dont believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong --
Hes not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
Well you can excomunicate me on my way to sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines --
How do you dare tell me that Im my fathers son
When that was just an accident of birth.
Id rather look around me -- compose a better song
'cos thats the honest measure of my worth.
In your pomp and all your glory youre a poorer man than me,
As you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
I dont believe you:
You had the whole damn thing all wrong --
Hes not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Morning
Maurice white, sheldon reynolds & allee willis
Intro chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning
You;re gonna find my love shining on you
Oh, Im waiting
And my heart is anticipating
Your face
On my pillow
Feel sunshine pouring through the window
Like the grapes on the vine
Love gets sweeter with time
You were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Your eyes
Shining on me
Youre the brightest star, that ever could be
Your kiss
Oh, Im so thankful
The love that we share, Im sincerely grateful
The wind blowin in the tree
Singing love songs to me
Singing you were made to love
Chorus:
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
Youre gonna find my love shining on you
Ooh, sunday morning
Its like the best of everything falling on you
Ooh, sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
Ooh, sunday morning
Like a summer day with your lover
Ooh sunday morning (Ill see you sunday morning)
When we shared sweet love like no other
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Afternoons
I sit at home
at my desk alone
as I used to do
on many sunday afternoons
when you came back to me,
your arms ached for me,
and your arms would close me in
though they smelled of other women.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons.
Your sweet head would bow,
like a child somehow,
down to me -
and your hair and your eyes were wild.
We would embrace on the floor-
You see my back´s still sore.
You knew how easily I bruised,
It´s a soreness I would never lose.
I think of you
on Sunday afternoons.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sunday Papers
Mother doesnt go out any more
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside
If you want to know about the bishop and the actress
If you want to know how to be a star
If you want to know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the sunday papers, sunday papers
Mothers wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the tvs on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
Shell know the facts when sunday comes along
If you want to know about the man gone bonkers
If you want to know how to play guitar
If you want to know about the other suckers
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Brothers heading that way now I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldnt print it if it wasnt true
If you want to know about the gay politician
If you want to know how to drive your car
If you want to know about the new sex position
You can read it in the sunday papers, read it in the sunday papers
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Sunday papers dont ask no questions
Sunday papers dont get no lies
Sunday papers dont raise objection
Sunday papers dont got no eyes
Read all about it, sunday papers
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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