Track 10 of the album Leopold Marsh · 2008
Forty Years of Mondays
“Forty years of the same coat on the same hook, and a quiet argument that it was a happy life. I closed the record with the most ordinary song I had.”
cinematic pop · orchestral pop · warm ballad · 4:15
Lyrics
Same grey coat on the same brass hook Same tired train and the same sweet look From the woman who sold me the morning news Forty years of Mondays, and nothing to lose Desk by the window, a plant that survived A drawer full of pencils I kept alive They gave me a clock and a card signed by all And a cake with my name in a frosting scrawl Now the hours are mine to hold Slow as honey, soft as gold Forty years of Mondays, and now there's a Monday for me A kettle, a garden, a long cup of tea I'll walk where the river goes slow Nowhere to be, and all the time to go Forty years of Mondays, I earned every one Now the morning is mine and the day has begun I'll learn the cello, or maybe the sea I'll write to my brother and sit by the tree I'll watch the school children go by at nine And wave from the window, and feel the sun shine Now the hours are mine to hold Slow as honey, soft as gold Forty years of Mondays, and now there's a Monday for me A kettle, a garden, a long cup of tea I'll walk where the river goes slow Nowhere to be, and all the time to go Forty years of Mondays, I earned every one Now the morning is mine and the day has begun Hang up the grey coat, leave it on the hook Some of the stories belong in a book But the best of the chapters are still to be told Now the morning is mine Now the morning is mine