I'm always knackered on Monday,
Even when early to bed on the Sunday.
It's getting me down, I'm wearing a frown,
Always looking forward to Friday.

Each day of the week, I work to get paid.
I leave in a hurry, so the bed's never made.
I could do with a break, cos it's too much to take,
It's like joining a holy crusade.

It's Monday again, I'm getting the blues.
I stare at the clock, and shuffle my shoes.
I've got to get out, to yell, scream and shout.
All this working will drive me to booze.

I'm always knackered on Monday,
So I'm going to go out every Sunday.
Drink beer instead of more hours in bed
And just muddle through to the Friday.