Sunday Papers

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 want to know 'bout the bishop and the actress If you want to know how to be a star If you want to know 'bout 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 want to know 'bout the mad punk rockers* If you want to know how to play guitar If you want to know 'bout any other suckers You can read it in the Sunday papers Read it in the Sunday papers Sunday papers, don't ask no questions Sunday papers, don't get no lies Sunday papers, don't raise objections Sunday papers, ain't got no eyes Brother's headin' that way now, I guess He just read somethin', made his face turn blue Well I got nothin' 'gainst the press They wouldn't print it if it wasn't true If you want to know 'bout the gay politician (oh yeah!) If you want to know how to drive your car If you want to know 'bout the new sex position You can read it in the Sunday papers Read it in the Sunday papers Sunday papers, don't ask no questions Sunday papers, don't get no lies Sunday papers, don't raise objections Sunday papers, ain't got no eyes Sunday papers, don't ask no questions Sunday papers, don't get no lies Sunday papers, don't raise objections Sunday papers, ain't got no eyes Read all about it, Sunday papers Get your Sunday paper, get your Sunday paper, get your