Suzy Sunday
Suzy Sunday, private person, lives across the hall from me.
Suzy Sunday lives alone, but she is never free.
Suzy Sunday's making money, more than she can ever use
And Suzy Sunday always has the blues.
Suzy Sunday's hair is perfect, Suzy Sunday's skin is clear
Suzy Sunday keeps a tiny little earring in each ear.
Suzy's slacks are never wrinkled, Suzy's palms are always dry,
And Suzy never has to say goodbye.
Suzy's mother taught her daughter how to cope with storm and strain,
How to keep her heart in check and how to use her brain.
Suzy Sunday's mother taught her how to build a little shell.
And Suzy's mother did her job too well.
Suzy's winters fill with fantasy, Suzy's springs all seem too cool
Suzy Sunday spends her summers in the silence of her pool.
Suzy's days are long and empty, Suzy's dawns all come too soon
And Suzy's nights, they never have a moon.
Suzy Sunday goes to parties and she sparkles and she glows.
But Suzy Sunday comes in single, and is single when she goes.
Suzy drinks her vodka Collins and it never shows at all.
When Suzy Sunday comes undone they never see her fall.
Suzy longs to leave the city, Suzy needs a brand new start.
Suzy needs to open up and find what's in her heart.
Suzy's arms are warm and ready, Suzy's bed has room for me.
But Suzy's still too cautious to be free.
Suzy Sunday's singing softly in the center of the stair
Watching shadows moving when there's no one there.
Suzy's gazing idly through the window at the sky.
Suzy, let me teach you how to fly.
Copyright © Frederic Gray | Year Posted 2020
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