it’s a wet and windy daya day to lose or through awayit makes me wonder why weever got up at allthere’s not a lot to do at homewe’ve done it all beforeanother wasted sundaysitting waiting for mondaywe had it planned a different waybut always it’s the sameat least the wind is warmerwhen it brings the rainbut if it’s green in the parkand it’s still warm after darkand if the man who keeps it tidydon’t come aroundwe’ll just walk beneath the treeshand in handjust you and meand if the grass is drying we’llsit upon the grounddone all there is it to do at homethere’s nothing left at allanother wasted sundaysitting waiting for mondayin seven this is the one daythat nothing seems to go my waybut if it’s green in the parkand it’s still warm after darkand if the man who keeps it tidydon’t come aroundwe’ll just walk beneath the treeshand in handjust you and meand if the grass is drying we’llsit upon the ground