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Chris Botti
Chris Botti
Trompete
Sting
Sting
Vocais
Dominic Miller
Dominic Miller
Violão
Russ Irwin
Russ Irwin
Vocal de apoio
Billy Childs
Billy Childs
Piano
Mark Whitfield
Mark Whitfield
Violão
Robert Hurst
Robert Hurst
Contrabaixo
Billy Kilson
Billy Kilson
Bateria
Boston Pops Orchestra
Boston Pops Orchestra
Conjunto
COMPOSIÇÃO E LETRA
Sting
Sting
Composição
Gil Goldstein
Gil Goldstein
Arranjos
PRODUÇÃO E ENGENHARIA
Bobby Colomby
Bobby Colomby
Produção
Al Schmitt
Al Schmitt
Engenharia (gravação)
David Hewitt
David Hewitt
Engenharia (gravação)
Steve Genewick
Steve Genewick
Engenharia (gravação)
Gerrit Kinkel
Gerrit Kinkel
Engenharia (assistente)
Allen Sides
Allen Sides
Engenharia (mixagem)
Phil Gitomer
Phil Gitomer
Produção (adicional)
Matt Evers
Matt Evers
Produção (adicional)
Robert Vosgien
Robert Vosgien
Engenharia (masterização)

Letra

"Seven days" is all she wrote
A kind of ultimatum note
She gave to me
She gave to me
When I thought the field had cleared
It seems another suit appeared
To challenge me
Oh, woe is me
Though I hate to make a choice
My options are decreasing mostly rapidly
Well, we'll see
I don't think she'd bluff this time
I really have to make her mine
It's plain to see
It's him or me
Monday, I could wait 'til Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine
Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time
Saturday could wait
Sunday'd be too late
The fact he's over six feet ten
Might instill fear in other men
But not in me
The mighty flea
Ask if I am mouse or man
The mirror squeaked, away I ran
He'll murder me
In time for his tea
Does it bother me at all
My rival is Neanderthal?
It makes me think, hey
Perhaps I need a drink
IQ is not an issue here
We won't be playing Scrabble
For her hand I fear
I need that beer, hey
Monday, I could wait 'til Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine
Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time
Saturday could wait
Sunday'd be too late
Seven days will quickly go
The fact remains, I love her so (I love her so)
Seven days, so many ways
I can't run away
No, I can't run away
Monday, I could wait 'til Tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine
Thursday's on my mind
Friday'd give me time
Saturday could wait
Sunday'd be too late
Oh, Sunday
Sunday'd too late, too late
Too late, too late, oh
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met?
Oh!
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet
Written by: Sting

Rodapé do Shazam

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