Yeaaah, Okay

Damn shit it's Sunday, the 100% cockroach day
Difficult day after a night of drinking
You need to get some air and not stay locked up
But three steps in the street... Damn everything is closed!
You call all your friends: they are all still out
"- Oh dude, it's 4pm - Shit I missed Telefoot!"
There are the drunk texts sent to the whole directory
"What are you doing?", "Let's fuck!", "Let's go to the castles of the Loire!"
You take a Doliprane or a product from Holland
You turn on your TV, another old German series
You forget "cuto-Moto", and a rerun of "Experts"
On TV it's hell, hello to Michel Drucker!
We want "It's cartoon" with Titi and Grosminet
No more reality TV with these old gelled angels
Where is the good old time of big Sunday night movies?
Presented by Whirlpool or Carte Noire coffee!
(Try to remember)

You're fed up? You're pissed off? Don't talk to me: it's Sunday!
You're bored? You're rinsed? You don't wash? It's Sunday!
Long, sad and rotten, outside it's not hot-hot
It's Sunday by Palmashow

Sunday is depressing, but there are those who appreciate
What? Family lunches where you sit for six hours "aaah"
They love gardening and forest walks
They do DIY, but never have the right drill
There's the still drunk kid who works the day at the cash register
The one who drives 300 miles for a GRS competition
There's the one at 10pm who hasn't finished his essay
He confused Balzac with Harry Roselmack
On Sunday, you kill time, on Facebook, on Twitter: "Refresh!"
Or you bake cakes, but you're out of fresh cream
Outside it's disgusting, so you wait for the forecasts
And in front of "Stade 2", you've made good resolutions
It's 1 for jogging, 2 for dieting, (dieting)
"- A little pudding? - I'm starting a crumb-free diet"
Yeah, you have to watch your figure, let's go to the organic market
Ten euros for a vine peach! Shall we get a McDonald's?

You're fed up? You're pissed off? Don't talk to me: it's Sunday!
You're bored? You're rinsed? You don't wash? It's Sunday!
Nobody ever does anything, you're all alone, you didn't score
It's Sunday by Palmashow

Like every week you tell yourself you have to call your grandparents
Like every week you tell yourself that Sunday was better before
When you were little, what a thrill: yeah it's cool, there's no school!
Today, you've grown up: you swear never to drink alcohol again...
In your bed you take stock of this endless day
You go to bed early, you don't sleep: son of a bitch sandman
In any case you tell yourself that the ordeal is over
But it wasn't so bad: tomorrow is Monday!

You're fed up? You're pissed off? Don't talk to me: it's Sunday!
You're bored? You're rinsed? You don't wash? It's Sunday!
Long, rotten and sad, outside it's not hot-hot
It's Sunday by Palmashow

You're fed up? You're pissed off? Don't talk to me!
You're bored? You're rinsed? You don't wash?
Nobody ever does anything, you're all alone, you didn't score
It's Sunday by Palmashow
It's Sunday, It's Sunday, It's Sunday!

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