Lyrics

Hes' not a guy that you'd call understanding She sees him weekends just to keep her hand in He's not affectionate and won't be kissed He never cired when they saw Schindler's List He never acted on some great ambition His hair was ginger but he called it titian When he admited he still loved the mission She had to go She's living for the weekend Going up the west end Waiting for her two day paradise He admitted he'd been scarred in childhood Born in Poppleton then moved to Foxwood The other children thought he talked funny He bought their friendship wiht his pocket money He always knew he had a head for business Cos he bought multipacks of king size rizzlas You couldn't blame a girl for feeling listless She had to leave She's living for the weekend Going up the west end Waiting for her two day paradise Friday night is when she comes alive