Written by Billy Aerts/Alan Levy
Oh Yeah (C) (F) (C F) His left elbow, is hangin out the window. (F) (C G) (C) His left finger is steering the wheel. (C) (Em) (Am) His right arm is wrapped around his sweetheart. (G) And it's a paradise inside his love mobile. (C F) (C F) Well I am stuck here, right behind him. (C) (G) (C) I'm held hostage by the double yellow lines. (C) (Em) (Am) The sign say fifty five. He's goin' thi--rty (G) and its clear that he has no concern for time.(C) (F) (C F) Oh I will not flash my headlights. (C G) (C) Ohho no I will not honk my horn. (C) (Em) (Am) Cause I know, I know just what he's feelin' (G) cause I've been in that sweet driver's seat before. CHORUS (F) (C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) Am (C) He don't want to get get his baby home to soon. (F) (C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) (C) In the middle of my Thursday afternoon. (Am) (F) (C) There's a growin' line of angry cars behind us. (F) (C) It's a centipede of metal single file. (Am) (F) (C) But I will not interrupt his romance. (G) Well I'll be his guardian angel for a while. CHORUS (F) (C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) Am (C) He don't want to get get his baby home to soon. (F C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) (C) In the middle of my Thursday afternoon. (G) (C) Yeah-ah in the middle of my Thursday afternoon.(F) (C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) Am (C) He don't want to get get his baby home to soon. (F) (C) He's a Sunday, Sunday driver. (G) (C) In the middle of my Thursday afternoon.