Angeline Is Always Friday

Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep, bustle, my neighbour at her tea
In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me

Angeline is always Friday, Angeline is spring forever
Winter Angeline could never be
Mister Wilson, old and smiling, lifts his cap as she is passing
Bowing her politely on to me

The week has gone its lonely way
I've waited for my only day
Away from shadows
In her sunlight I can tell her: "I love you, Angeline"

Angeline is always Friday, suitcase on the rack above
She hasn't even read her magazine
Angeline is counting stations, 'til the one where I am standing
Waiting for my only Angeline

The week has gone its lonely way
I've waited for my only day
Away from shadows
In her sunlight I can tell her: "I love you, Angeline"

Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep, bustle, my neighbour at her tea
In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me.