It only goes to show
that here it comes,
here comes the weekend
and I'm on my own again
with a Saturday in the rain.
Here it comes,
here comes the weekend.
The fine line from pleasure to pain
is making me cry.
When will I see you again?
Every breath,
every vision you make.
Every chance in love
you love to take.
Every move
that seems to alter my world.
Every dream
I've had about this boy and this girl.
It makes me wanna run,
it makes me wanna hide
cos you're the only one
that makes my love alive
and time is running fast into a new goodbye.
It only goes to show
that here it comes,
here comes the weekend,
another walk down that lonely lane,
another Sunday that feels the same.
Here it comes,
here comes the weekend.
The fine line from pleasure to pain
is making me cry.
When will I see you again?