paroles de chanson Friday Saturday Sunday - John Lundvik

Whistling...
1, 2, 3...
Baby, baby, baby I'm the lucky one
On the top, top, top of the world.
I watch you lick your fingers while the ice-cream runs,
Down your tanned arms, beautiful girl.
No worry 'bout nothing,
No worries at all,
Just sleeping on the sand on the round weary clouds.

No, I don't care about Mondays,
Only Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
Yeah, we can do without Mondays,
Gimme Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
That's how we live,
That's how we live,
That's how we live.

You will be my Marilyn, my movie queen,
On the top, top, top of the world.
I'm diving, diving deep into your weekend dream.
Mmmm, you're my favourite girl.
The picture is running,
Action, please.
Ticking, ticking, ticking,
Means nothing to me.

'Cause I don't care about Mondays,
Only Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
Though, we can do without Mondays,
Gimme Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
That's how we live,
That's how we live,
That's how we live.

Don't care about nothing,
But loving you more.
Easy peasy and I'll throw your clothes on the floor.
I will love you for sure,
Baby, I'm closing the door.

'Cause I don't care about Mondays,
Only Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
'Cause I don't care about Mondays,
Only Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
Yeah, we can do without Mondays,
Gimme Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays.
That's how we live,
That's how we live,
That's how we live.
Whistling...