Same old boring Sunday morning Old man's out washing the car Mum's in the kitchen, cooking Sunday dinner Her best meal moaning while it lasts Johnny's upstairs in his bedroom Sitting in the dark Annoying the neighbors With his punk rock electric guitar This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Every lousy Monday morning Heathrow jets goes crashing over my home Ten o'clock broad-moor siren Driving me mad, won't leave me alone The woman next store Just sits and stares outside She hasn't come out once Ever since her husband died This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Youth club group used to want to be free Now they want anarchy They play too fast, they play out of tune They practice in the singers bedroom The drums quite good, the bass is too loud And I can't hear the words This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Saturday morning Family shoppers crowding out the center of town Young blokes sitting on the benches Shouting at the young girls walking around Johnny stands there at his window Looking at the night I said, hey what you listening to There's nothing there (That's right) This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs
Same old boring Sunday morning Old man's out washing the car Mum's in the kitchen, cooking Sunday dinner Her best meal moaning while it lasts Johnny's upstairs in his bedroom Sitting in the dark Annoying the neighbors With his punk rock electric guitar This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Every lousy Monday morning Heathrow jets goes crashing over my home Ten o'clock broad-moor siren Driving me mad, won't leave me alone The woman next store Just sits and stares outside She hasn't come out once Ever since her husband died This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Youth club group used to want to be free Now they want anarchy They play too fast, they play out of tune They practice in the singers bedroom The drums quite good, the bass is too loud And I can't hear the words This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs Saturday morning Family shoppers crowding out the center of town Young blokes sitting on the benches Shouting at the young girls walking around Johnny stands there at his window Looking at the night I said, hey what you listening to There's nothing there (That's right) This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs This is the sound This is the sound of the suburbs
