ANGELINE IS ALWAYS FRIDAY

     Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep; 
     Bustle, my neighbour at her tea;
     In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me. 

     Angeline is always Friday, Angeline is spring forever;
     Winter Angeline could never be.
     Mister Wilson, old and smiling, lifts his cap as she is passing,
     Bowing her politely on to me.

     The week has gone its lonely way;
     I've waited for my only day
     Away from shadows; 
     In her sunlight I can tell her, "I love you, Angeline."

     Angeline is always Friday, suitcase on the rack above;
     She hasn't even read her magazine.
     Angeline is counting stations, 'til the one where I am standing,
     Waiting for my only Angeline.

     (Humming and instrumental bridge)

     The week has gone its lonely way;
     I've waited for my only day
     Away from shadows; 
     In her sunlight I can tell her, "I love you, Angeline."

     Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep; 
     Bustle, my neighbour at her tea;
     In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun as me.