Another weekend and she's saying
All I need is one more day
And I'll be golden
Rested, ready for the grind
Doing laundry, planning menus,
Home Depot and other venues
Poof the weekend's gone
And I still need down time

I said I know just how you feel
And as they say, the struggle's real
I've got an idea and it might just do the trick
Next weekend let's pretend
That we are 22 again
We'll order pizza, beer, and mozzarella sticks

And she said you're a fuckin' riot
You cannot digest that diet
We can try it but we'll get hangovers doll
But I'll see that and I'll raise you
Let's get blazed on Saturday
And I gazed into her eyes and I said call

Because I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
Fuck the pulpits, fuck the pundits, fuck the chores
Yeah I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
And when you're done let's go and fuck some more

Suddenly Saturday arrived
The farmer's market was a hive
We braved Trader Joe's' cursed parking lot
We decorated for the season
Vacuumed, dusted, started wheezin'
Scrubbed the bathtub and the stairs and the cat box

She said adulting is exhausting
And the rising of the costs—
Like that foccacia that you made for Dave and John
Oh, those sandwiches, delicious
I gotta finish up the dishes
Oh my delicious dish
Where has the weekend gone?

I said I don't know babe I'm puzzled
I think we might be getting hustled
As I lit a little bowl of Lemon Hazey
I got this notion in my head
I think we should both should go to bed
Let's wake up with the sun
And let's go crazy

Because I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
Fuck the pulpits, fuck the pundits, fuck the chores
Yeah I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
And when you're done let's go and fuck some more

Yeah I said I want to you to fuck me Sunday morning
When I feel cute and full of energy
Yeah I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
Then I'll fuck you and you can re-fuck me

And when Sunday morn came down
We cuddled up and went to town
And at noon we ordered brunch and some more wine
We turned off all of the alarms
And focused on each other's charms
Next thing we knew, well it was six, then it was nine

And I said now I want you to fuck me Monday morning
Let's wake up late and screw the day away
Fuck the office, fuck the Slack
Fuck it all—let's not go back
Oh glory glory, oh happy day

Yeah what if we just fucked each Sunday morning
Fuck the pulpits, fuck the pundits, fuck the chores
Yeah I want you to fuck me Sunday morning
And when you're done let's go and fuck some more
Yeah when you're done let's go and fuck some more