The sound of Sunday

Pitter patter rain drops
Coffee cups clink
Tired eyes open slowly
And give a little blink
It's the sound of Sunday

Tv plays far too loud
As they're tucked up in their bed
Tweets ping quite a few times
Some things must be said
It's the sound of Sunday

Key turns, engine thrums
Empty seats are filled by bums
Dash, splash, the morning's cool
Off to dancing, acting, singing school

Trolleys rattle endlessly
The supermarket's full
People jostle in the queue
There cries are oh so dull
It's the sound of Sunday

Cooker beeps, the roast is ready
Pour the gravy, keep it steady
Peas, please, pile it on
They'll loudly munch till it's all gone

Then Monday morning
Rings a loud bell
It's everyone's
Idea of hell
It's the sound of Sunday

And finally we head upstairs
To toss and turn and snore
The weekend's passed so quietly
When we'd hoped for something more
It's the sound of Sunday