Slowly runs the lazy river

And in it I pitched all my dreams

And all the things I ever wanted

And watched them heading slowly downstream

For I have learned that such things fade

Like photographs and family holidays

And every Monday is Goodbye Sunday



I guess you'd like me to throw away

That box of diaries and old letters

For they do nothing

But feed my memory

But really you should know me better

For I am too fond of the past

But I think I am learning at last

That every Monday is Goodbye Sunday



Yes it's true that I cling to things 

That I should leave behind

As if those were the goldens days

Well, I just hope that you really don't mind



Slowly runs the lazy river

Every Monday is Goodbye Sunday etc etc