Thoughts of my love keep me sane all day
Amid noise and confusion and constant disarray
My hands get dirty and my eyes grow weary
Thoughts of you love, make me feel more cheery
Hands of the clock tell me tea-time is near
Yet I'd rather be drinking with you my dear

And so another day will draw to a close
How long I will work here, heaven only knows
I pass through the gates, just another number
At night in your arms though, I lay and slumber
Friday comes around, nothing could be better
The weekend with you love, to me that is nectar