Oh, these endless Sundays forenoon when the sky is blue
a child sits by the window and tries to catch flies that lands on the sill.

Oh, these endless Sunday sermons on the radio,
a voice drone about a stern god who loves you only if you love him first.

Oh, these endless Sunday singing by the sect across the road
who think that their way of worship is the only true path to Paradise.

Oh, these endless Sundays forenoon when it’s a sin for a child
to go and play before twelve; bet it will be raining by the time they let him out.