morrissey every day is like Sunday

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 the seaside town they forgot to bomb Come, come, come nuclear bomb Trudging back over pebbles and sand And a strange dust lands on your hands (and on your (on your face. .. )