Tuesday

One year like any old other year In a week like any week Monday lying down Half asleep People doing what people do Loving, working and getting through No portraits on the walls Of Seventh Avenue Then Tuesday came and went Like a helicopter overhead The letter that she left Cold addressed in red Tuesday came and went one One September When will she come again The thing about memories They're sure and bound to fade Except for the stolen souls Left upon her blade Is Monday coming back That's what Mondays do They turn and turn around Afraid to see it through Tuesday came and went Like a helicopter overhead The letter that she left Cold addressed in red Tuesday came and went one One September When will she come again Tuesday came and went one One September, when? Cold addressed in red How could I forget Tuesday came and went Like a helicopter overhead Will she come again