Days Of The Week Lyrics - Singles - Charlotte Martin

It's Monday mornin' and the coffee's on the brill 

The sun's a warnin', sendin' signals to the moon 

I rise and fall in my accustomed rusted habits 

I can't believe myself and I can hardly stand it anymore 

It's Tuesday mornin', I file my nails and wash my hair 

You're still sleepin' like I'm hardly even there 

The smell of tangerines are floatin' through the window 

I wonder if someday I'll turn into your widow or your maid 

It's Wednesday mornin', I think you may have tried to cheat 

I smell the perfume on the inside of your sleeve 

I must admit I know I can be quite obsessive 

I get dramatic and I'm ready to confess it to the Lord 

It's Thursday mornin', I could be pregnant, could be bored 

I want to love you, I want to be the staple sword 

We might be out of soap or real communication 

And all the tricks my little brain plays on my nerves they need to end 

It's Friday mornin', thank god the weekend's almost here 

Let's get some breakfast and get far away from here 

So I can tell you that I am a secret agent 

Who's stationed in a small hotel in Southeast Asia 

But that's a lie, you know I've never even been there 

I tend to get real bored with my own head 

And try to make you care