Month of Sundays

Well I've been living in this month of Sundays

For so long I don't remember Saturday night

Broken records don't play new tunes

'Cept for once in a blue moon

And I've looked but the moon is still white

And I've pinned some hope to the summit of someday

Someone somewhere may do something with his life

A smoker's lungs don't blow balloons

'Cept for once in a blue moon

And I've looked but the moon is still white

Rusty guns fire rusty shots

Leopards never change their spots

And fireworks always fade too soon

Empty words don't mean a lot

And for me that's all you've got

But I swear to you darling, one day

We'll stand beneath a blue moon

I've been living in this month of Sundays

And I forget what Monday morning feels like

Blushing brides and handsome grooms

Deep in debt from honeymoons

Stare above, but the moon is still white

I've wandered into wondering if one day

When the war is won and one finally made two

When we think not of what we're not

And think only of what we've got

And we'll go dancing underneath the blue moon

Oh, black kettles and black pots

Seem to fight an awful lot

And make the kitchen the most uncomfortable of rooms

Empty words don't mean a lot

And for me that's all you've got

And I swear to you darling, one day

We'll stand beneath a blue moon

Ooh-oh, ooh-oh-oh, ooh-oh-oh

Ooh-oh, ooh-oh-oh, ooh-oh-oh

Oh-oh-no, ooh-oh-oh, ooh-oh-oh

Ooh-oh, ooh-oh-oh, ooh-oh-oh

So I've been living in this month of Sundays

And I don't know when this month may be through

So will you tell me that you'll wait

For as long as it may take

And I swear darling, I'll show you a blue moon

Oh my darling, I'll show you a blue moon