Tom Paxton Angeline Is Always Friday
Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep
Bustle, my neighbour at her tea
In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun
As me
Angeline is always Friday
Angeline is spring forever
Winter Angeline could never be
Mister Wilson, old and smiling
Lifts his cap as she is passing
Bowing her politely on to me
My week has gone its lonely way
I've waited for my only day
Away from shadows
In her sunlight I can tell her
I love you, Angeline
Angeline is always Friday
Suitcase on the rack above
She hasn't even read her magazine
Angeline is counting stations
'Til the one where I am standing
Waiting for my only Angeline
My week has gone its lonely way
I've waited for my only day
Away from shadows
In her sunlight I can tell her
I love you, Angeline
Clatter, the milkman at my doorstep
Bustle, my neighbour at her tea
In all the world no one's so glad to see the sun
As me
