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Jayme Gutierrez
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Friday
Seven a.m
I wake up in the morning,
And I go downstairs,
I have my bowl of serial,
I see everything, time ticking on,
People rushing and buses leaving here,
And I'm kicking in the front seat, sitting in the back,
I think I've made my mind up witch seat…
Friday, Friday, getting down on Friday,
Cos everyone is looking for the weekend, weekend,
Friday, Friday, we're getting down on Friday,
And everyone is looking, everyone is looking now.
Seven forty five,
We drive along the highway,
We're cruising fast,
I want the time to fly…
Fun, fun, think about fun, you know what it is,
I've got this, you've got this,
My friend is by my right, ay,
And I'm kicking in the front seat, sitting in the back,
I think I've made my mind up which seat…
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Friday, Friday, we're getting down on Friday,
Cos everyone is looking for the weekend, weekend,
Friday, Friday, we're getting down on Friday,
And everyone is looking, everyone is looking for fun, fun, fun.
But an undiscerning multitude,
Decide the worth of what we do,
So clever people work the news,
And then cigarettes are good for you.
We're only what you say we are,
Supposing that we're even heard,
Above a drowning sea of self promoted symphonies,
Where luck and fame and infamy,
Seem to all deserve to be,
Burning in the sky like stars before they die,
And if this is how it works, you decide upon our worth,
Don't you see what you can do?
Don't you see what you have done?
Friday, ohh, Friday, ohh.
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