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
Every day is like Sunday
Every day 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
Every day is like Sunday
Every day 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
Every day is like Sunday
“Win yourself a cheap tray”
Share some greased tea with me
Every day is silent and grey
