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
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and gray
Hide on the promenade, etch a postcard
"How I dearly wish I was not here"
In this seaside town
That they forgot to bomb,
Come...come, come nuclear bomb
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and gray
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
Everyday is like Sunday...
Everyday is silent and gray....