Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench
Where your clothes were stolen

This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon—come, Armageddon! Come, Armageddon! Come!

Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard,
"How I dearly wish I was not here."

In the seaside town
...that they forgot to bomb
Come! Come! Come—nuclear bomb!

Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
And on your face, on your face, on your face, on your face

Everyday is like Sunday
"Win Yourself A Cheap Tray"
Share some greased tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey