Sunday riders-ridin' out along the highway
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Sunday gliders-glidin' up along the skyway
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Some must fly and some must speed
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To satisfy the human need
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Paper dresses-wear them once and throw
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away
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Plastic flowers-try to smell them anyway
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No matter what the future brings
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Nothin's like the real things
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Sunday lovers-sneakin' in forsaken places
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Under covers-so's to hide the guilty faces
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Take my wife and take my pay
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But don't take my Sunday lady from me.
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Sunday Rider
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| David Gates |
