Baked-bean eyes in a head of skin,
Rumours fly as to where he's been,
Rolling over like a dying whale,
He blows his load like a sudden gale.
He moves so well that you hope he stays,
But he leaves you empty as the darkness plays
A game of shadows on your sleeping face,
Outside the snow is falling all around his place.
Exhausting trials of endless speculation
Conjours up a new line of permutations.
Cancerous musings help complete the picture,
I'll die from thinking, surely not from smoking,
To fill my lungs would be a stricture,
But my mind has no limits -- I wish I was joking.
He's elegant -- in a stupid kind of way.
Never speaks -- he has nothing to say.
Calls you 'kid' -- on Monday.
Is your lover by Tuesday,
Bangs another on Wednesday,
And he's only halfway through the week.
Where does that
Where does that leave
Where does that leave you?
Halfway Through The Week Lyrics performed by Martha And The Muffins are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Halfway Through The Week Lyrics performed by Martha And The Muffins is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD