Angeline Is Always Friday

<br>Clatter -- the milkman at my doorstep, bustle -- my neighbour at her tea;<br>In all the world no one`s so glad to see the sun as me.<br>Angeline is always Friday, Angeline is spring forever;<br>Winter Angeline could never be.<br>Mister Wilson, old and smiling, lifts his cap as she is passing,<br>Bowing her politely on to me.<br>Chorus:<br>The week has gone its lonely way;<br>I`ve waited for my only day<br>Away from shadows,<br>In her sunlight I can tell her, "I love you, Angeline."<br>Angeline is always Friday, suitcase on the rack above;<br>She hasn`t even read her magazine.<br>Angeline is counting stations, `til the one where I am standing,<br>Waiting for my only Angeline.<br>(Instrumental bridge)<br>(Chorus)<br>Clatter -- the milkman at my doorstep, bustle -- my neighbour at her tea;<br>In all the world no one`s so glad to see the sun as me.