Sunday riders-ridin' out along the highway
sunday gliders-glidin' up along the skyway
some must fly and some must speed
to satisfy the human need
Paper dresses-wear them once and throw
away
plastic flowers-try to smell them anyway
no matter what the future brings
nothin's like the real things
Sunday lovers-sneakin' in forsaken places
under covers-so's to hide the guilty faces
take my wife and take my pay
but don't take my sunday lady from me.