Trudging slowly over wet sand,
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town,
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon, come Armageddon
Come Armageddon, come
Everyday is like Sunday,
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on the promenade, etch a postcard:
How I dearly wish I was not here
In this seaside town,
That they forgot to bomb
Come, come, come nuclear bomb
Everyday is like Sunday,
Everyday is silent and grey.
Trudging back over pebbles and sand,
And a strange dust lands on your hands,
And on your face,
On your face, on your face, on your face...
Everyday is like Sunday
Win Yourself A Cheap Tray
Share some grease-tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey

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