I hate Saturdays
I hate the nights when you're not around
All your talk that was so profound
But not today
I hate Saturdays
I hate the moments in between
Search for signs that you thought of me
But none today
And I know in my heart that I shouldn't believe her
A fool in the web of a wicked weaver
Do anything for your scarlet fever
No matter what the price
'Matter what the price
I hate Saturdays
I hate the nights when you're on the town
You say you're seeking another sound
That isn't me
I hate Saturdays
I hate your perfume in my room
That seems to suffocate my tomb
I hope it stays
And I know in my heart that I shouldn't believe her
I'm a fool in the web of a wicked weaver
Do anything for your scarlet fever
No matter what the price
No matter what the price
I hate Saturdays
I hate Saturdays
I hate Saturdays
I hate Saturdays