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Up every mornin' just to keep a job |
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I gotta fight my way through the busslin' mob |
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Sounds of the city poundin' in my brain |
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While another day goes down the drain |
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But it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows |
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No one owns a piece of my time |
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And there's a five o'clock me inside my clothes |
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Thinkin' that the world looks fine, yeah |
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Holiday, yeah |
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Tradin' my time for the pay I get |
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Livin' on money that I ain't made yet |
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Gotta keep goin', gotta make my way |
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But I live for the end of the day |
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And it's a five o'clock world when the whistle blows |
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No one owns a piece of my time |
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And there's a long haired hippie girl who waits, I know |
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To ease my troubled mind, yeah |
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Holiday, yeah |
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In the shelter of her arms everything's okay |
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She talks and the world goes slippin' away |
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And I know the reason I can still go on |
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When every other reason is gone |
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In my five o'clock world she waits for me |
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Nothin' else matters at all |
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'Cause every time my baby smiles at me |
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I know that it's all worthwhile, yeah |
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Holiday, yeah, holiday, yeah |
