The Good Old Days
The Good Old Days
How quiet can it be
On a Sunday morning free
The neighbor happily greets Lowe’s
Tomorrow there will be clean clothes.
Time ago a preacher shook your hand
The choir was almost like a band,
There was the smell of roast awafting through.
And in the bed were me and you.
Once on a Sunday morning
Tongue in cheek - once no one would be working on Sunday.
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