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 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 greased tea with me Everyday is silent and grey
