Slow End of Saturday Night © 6/17/1980 Bob Mullany
When your Sunday morning is the slow end of Saturday night
And the sun on the shades says it's time to turn out the lights
All the butts and bottles and bodies are a sorrowful sight
When your Sunday morning is the slow end of Saturday night
On the wrong side of thirty some mornings don't feel so good
You know it hurts you but you still don't live like you should
Your soul feels the music but the message seems misunderstood
On the wrong side of thirty some warnings don't do much good
Another Sunday morning wondering where your Saturday went
Did your friends forget you, did the message never get sent ?
Jesus loves you, but he's still not paying the rent
Another Sunday morning wondering where your Saturday went
You go through phases like the moon shining down on the night
Hitting on some other man's woman and starting a fight
Sowing the seeds of destruction and you know it ain't right
And now your Sunday morning is the back end of Saturday night
When your Sunday morning is the slow end of Saturday night
And the sun on the shades says it's time to turn out the lights
All the butts and bottles and bodies are a sorrowful sight
When your Sunday morning is the slow end of Saturday night
Everyone has a right to make mistakes, but you are abusing the privilege”
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