Sunday Papers Lyrics

Mother doesn't go out anymore
Just sits at home and rolls her spastic eyes
But every weekend through the door
Come words of wisdom from the world outside

If you wanna know about the bishop and the actress
If you wanna know how to be a star
If you wanna know about the stains on the mattress
You can read it in the Sunday papers
Sunday papers

Mother's wheelchair stays out in the hall
Why should she go out when the TV's on
Whatever moves beyond these walls
She'll know the facts when Sunday comes along

If you wanna know about the mad punk rockers
If you wanna know how to play guitar
If you wanna know 'bout any other suckers
You can read it in the Sunday papers
Read it in the Sunday papers

Chorus:
Sunday papers don't ask no questions
Sunday papers don't dead no lies
Sunday papers don't raise objections
Sunday papers ain't got no eyes

Brother's hearing that way now, I guess
He just read something made his face turn blue
Well I got nothing against the press
They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true

If you wanna know 'bout the gay politician (Oh yeah!)
If you wanna know how to drive your car
If you wanna know 'bout the new sex position
You can read it in the Sunday papers
Read it in the Sunday papers

Chorus (twice)

Read all about it
Sunday papers
Read all about it
Sunday papers

Get your Sunday paper
Read all about it