Every day is like Blue Monday

Trudging slowly over wet sand,
I see a ship in the harbour.
How I dearly wish I was not here.

Those who came before me
hide on the promenade.
I can and shall obey.

Every day is silent and grey
and I still find it so hard
to say what I need to say.


Trudging back over pebbles and sand,
I thought I heard you speak.
I was mistaken.

Now I stand here waiting
in this seaside town.
Our greased tea grows cold, grows cold.

Every day is silent and grey
and I still find it so hard
to say what I need to say.


Sources:
Every day is like Sunday (Morrissey)
Blue Monday (New Order)
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