Sunday's despair

[Whistle Solo] [Storytelling Verse] Sunday morning, a peaceful scene, But lurking beneath, a subtle sheen. The day unfolds, with promise and grace, Yet the shadow of Monday, we can't erase. [Sad Verse] Waking up slow, the sunlight streams, But there's a weight in the air, in our dreams. Sunday's bliss, slipping away, As Monday draws closer, day by day. [Happy Chorus] Sunday's great, but it's the worst, A bittersweet feeling, a blessing and a curse. So let's hold onto the moment, let's make it last, Before Monday comes, and erases the past. [Verse] Lazy afternoons, with nowhere to go, Yet the ticking clock reminds us, we're not in control. As the evening falls, and stars start to gleam, We're caught in this cycle, between reality and dream. [Pause] [Happy Verse] No need for sorrow, no time to mope, Sunday's not the end, it's our lifeline, our hope. So let's raise a toast, to Sundays, come what may, For in this crazy world, they're our getaway. [Psychedelic Chorus] Sunday's great, but it's the worst, A day of freedom, a break from the burst. So let's hold onto the moment, let's make it last, Before Monday comes, and we're back to the fast. [Chorus] [Outro]