His left elbow is hanging out the window His left finger steerin' the wheel His right arm is wrapped around his sweetheart And it's paradise in his love mobile And I'm stuck here right behind him Held hostage by the double yellow line The sign says 55, he's going thirty And it's clear that he has no concern for time (Chorus:) He 's a Sunday, Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon But I will not blink my headlights No, I will not honk my horn Cause I know (I know) just what he's feeling cause I've been in that sweet driver's seat before (Chorus:) He 's a Sunday, a Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon There's a growing line of angry cars behind us Like a centipede of metal single file But I will not let them interrupt his romance I'll be his guardian angel for awhile (Chorus:) He 's a Sunday, a Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday, Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon