Sundays for Strippers

The sun's gonna shine, the birds gonna sing,

That girl's gonna sleep through everything;

Big roll of singles and her platform shoes,

The church bells ring but she's gonna snooze.

She smells like smoke and her eyes are red,

She still hears the music poundin' in her head;

Father forgive her but she needs her rest,

And Sundays for strippers are the very best.

When they call that roll every weary soul

Shout for glory on the streets of gold,

Sweet sweet dreams on the pillow rest,

Sundays for strippers are the very best.

Casey and Chevelle, Jasmine and Blair,

Dance 'round the pole in their underwear;

Professional smile and a rose tattoo,

They work all night 'til the clock strike two.

Sunshine love you and the songbirds too,

Come aboard the Ark before it rains on you;

Stretch your limbs in the golden light,

Sundays for strippers after the night.